The colors of the night from the place he stood repelled the darkness from the place he was. From that view, Pelumi saw a room that was full of things, that was brown and yellow, that was bright and mellow.
Watching him and unamused, he saw himself staring back.
The apocalypse had begun, and it was hot as it looked. Pelumi had nowhere to go. Pelumi, the face in the mirror.
He saw his reflection as the person inside of him, yet he knew his reflection was the person that he was;
A body, in the midst of flames. A body in an empty room. A body that was young. A body that was old. He wondered how he had no say in this particular end of days.
