It happened suddenly.
I was in the bathroom shaving just before I took a shower and got dressed for work. And, as there was nothing else to do, I was staring into the mirror like I do every morning, more from habit than necessity when I noticed something about my reflection. There was something just slightly different about the image in the mirror than there had been every morning. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but as I pointed my chin at the ceiling and winced to make sure I got that annoying spot just behind my chin, I noticed the background just to my reflection's right wasn't quite right and I locked my eyes on it and made the face that tightened my neck and scraped the razor up against the whiskers.
That's when I clearly saw the background behind my image waver and shift just slightly.
I hadn't moved, the mirror couldn't move on its own unless there was an earthquake, and nothing else had changed. It was the background in the mirror, what was supposed to be the corner of my shower, a towel rack, and the framed picture I had paid too much for because I thought it was really artsy, and it ended up hanging in my bathroom as a reminder not to drink umbrella drinks at charity auctions.
The frame of the print was dead straight, but in the mirror it looked wavy. And it was moving.
I was sober, and hadn't had any medication stronger than chicken noodle soup in months. And as I was watching it, the edge of the artwork was moving up and down, then I saw the metal corner of the shower creep across the wall, then it vanished.
Then I glanced back at my reflection and it was different as well. I had a towel over my shoulder and was wearing my pajama pants, while my reflection was naked and the background was now a gray blur with a couple of light spots here and there.
"No."
I hadn't said anything.
"You can see me can't you?"
It was my reflection that had spoken. I remember the chill that flashed through my body and my eyes were streaming tears. "Yes, I can see you, and you're not me." I stopped shaving and looked at him, and he stopped shaving and looked at me, but he stayed as he was. He appeared to be me, but he wasn't me. His hair was different, he was a little thinner in the cheeks and neck, and he didn't look tired....
