He looks into the mirror and sees one of the stupid Homo sapiens staring back at him.
Just after bath, he remains before the mirror on the wall and unlike the magical speaking mirror in Snow White, it produces the character inside, wrapped in towel, moisturized and fresh. So he smiles with satisfaction that he really had bathed.

In different poses, he tries displaying his muscles. But he’s no Arnold, rather a hopeless stick that has gained tiny glimmers of hope after imbibing some amount of summer rain. And his companion that mirror bears is no better.

Done with dressing, he draws near the mirror. Applies creams and lotions. Waxes his hair. He draws even closer and scrutinizes his skin to check the progress of the cosmetics he applies. Satisfied, then his left cheek breaks into a tiny dimple. He looks good; good enough to look not bad. But then he tries a common selfie pose girls usually take for their photos in social networks; lips projecting forward as in request for a kiss. He should realise he is no girl. Displaying muscle is better even when he doesn’t possess a good build of body.

He wears dark sunglass. Suits right. But such a shy guy he’s that I’m sure he’ll let it rest inside his pocket than let it perch on his nose and protect his eyes from the glare of the sun. His boundless timidity.

Today is Saturday. He’s going shopping. Before leaving, he comes again before the mirror. This time he sprays deodorant and the character other side smells his shirt to check the strength of the scent.

Adjusting his collar, he leaves finally with a purse without even thanking the mirror whom he constantly disturbed with his good-enough-to-look-not-bad reflection. 

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