Finally, I open my eyes and look at myself. I see myself through the eyes of the mask, yet I do not recognize who I am. Who am I? Where am I? Am I even real? Self-reflection blurs the boundaries between reality and identity. Is the mask a shield, or a disguise? Or is it a mirror, revealing the truth about my non-being? A nothingness in the cosmos, a spark already extinguished before its light could ever touch the ground?
The second of four images in the story “Masquerade.”
