It was dark and no else was awake. The gardeners with their loud blasting lawnmowers and weed-whackers hadn’t arrived outside yet, so it must have been early. Then again, he thought, Maybe it’s not Thursday yet.
Or Wednesday for that matter.
He couldn’t remember which day of the week those people normally came over to cut the grass and straighten out the hedges in the front yard.

Rubbing his head now, he paused to lean in the bathroom doorway and cross his arms in the dark. He examined his reflection in the gigantic mirror mounted above the sink. This mirror! It must have been almost as tall as he was and at least three times as wide. What could she have been thinking! He flipped the light switch, the whole room blinked and suddenly he was aware that the toilet was sitting in its usual position in the corner. It was the same with the washtub and shower curtain, the bulging hamper and the square plastic weigh scale that he had purchased last year for half off at the local Rite-Aid. It was a two for one deal. As he tilted his head against the doorway, he felt as if the lights above the sink had always been on and for a moment he forgot that he was in his own house.

Still leaning against the doorway, he returned his gaze to the mirror and without uncrossing his arms or breaking eye contact with himself, he abruptly shrugged and walked towards his reflection, stopping again when he felt his hip touch the sink. He stood in the silence and regarded himself in this way under the yellow light bulbs, arms crossed in front of him, his face slightly tilted up and to the side, feet planted firmly on the squeaking rubber mat beneath him. He straightened himself a bit and then leaned over the sink to put his face closer to the mirror, turning to the side so that his nose wouldn’t hit.

Peering at the reflection of his jaw line from the corner of his eye, he breathed slowly and deliberately through his nostrils to avoid fogging up the mirror’s surface. He could see the scars and blemishes on his cheek from years of acne. He could see that his eyebrows needed plucking. He could see that his nose hairs needed plucking. He could see that the flesh on his chin was beginning to sag and there were these strange lumpy things on the fleshy part of his throat. He could see the places under his jawbone that he had missed with his razor the previous morning. He saw the dotted splatters of toothpaste and soap scum across the glass next to his face and he suddenly felt disgusted.

He was squatting on the counter over the sink, wiping the mirror with a wet face-towel when the gardeners rang the doorbell again, asking in their loud broken English to be let in through the side gate.