The Glitter Jungle:
Fiction:
Mirror's Reflection
Dancing, free.
Alone in the room he's swaying by himself in front of a mirror that
reflects him and him alone. His body moves sensually with the music,
soft and round movements, waves of flesh through air, but no one is
there to appreciate the beauty. No one is ever there to appreciate
this man.
So he dances with the mirror and with his glass of brandy, listening
to old records no one in this town likes except for him and his
reflection. He can imagine the room full of other people dancing
around him, pale shadows of ghosts surrounding him in a crowd of
empty-eyed illusions.
"...Nothing to lose and there's nothing to prove..."
He doesn't exactly sing along, loud voice and excitement, just hums
a
few lines here and there when they strike him as especially true to
the situation. He dances only to himself now; not like when he was
still dancing with actual people and every move was perfectly
designed seduction, haunting and used to hunt. Right now it's just
designed to make him feel his body, drown in the music and the
movements and the loneliness...
He stops in mid-turn, eyes wide open, body screaming at him and the
music kept on playing in the background, but all he notices is the
slow, deliberate clapping. The unexpected guest saunters into the
room wordlessly, walks right into his personal space and touches his
face.
The illusion shatters when human touch melts the walls of this bubble
he lived in. When warm lips on his own remind him he's not alone.