Who will be your god today?

EXCERPT

Midnight. I stand in the bathroom staring at myself in a shard of mirror still hanging on the wall. There are many multi-faceted layers of disintegration. The art of disintegrating is akin to the precision of a gemcutter’s stroke; with each new chip another layer of depth is revealed. With this anthology in mind, I know that I can gaze into any mirror and find myself flawless. The cut, the shape of my disintegration glitters with an intensity matched only by the stainless steel of my eyes. The image reflected in the mirror is not sacred... I find the transparency comforting.