Pertaining to a Dream, by Danny Boy

Has it ever happened that when you looked into a mirror you simply were not you? Not as if you were cloaked in costume - disguised - or otherwise unable to recognize yourself for seeming older, younger, disfigured or abstractly recombined, but as if somewhere in the space between yourself and your reflected image you became disassociated and aware of a dissonance. The person staring back at you does not reproduce your movements like a twin copycat. His movements do not knowingly match your own. Instead, they are sickeningly changeling-esque. The expressions you feel the muscles in your face make are not reflected in the portal; your excitement does not register properly, your smile is perverted. You are either masked or unmasked, but which is impossible to tell.