Morning. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror. Shaving water left over in the sink basin trickles down the drain as I inspect the me that stares back at me from the polished glass. This is a different experience every morning.
Sometimes a hint of recognition flickers faint in the reflective eyes, briefly, then vanishes. Sometimes there is full connection of identity between the two staring figures, seamless and seemingly endless, even if one is a reversed opposite of the other. Sometimes, and these are the most disturbing, there is total lack of unity.