...Staring Back At Me

I stared in horror at the detestable creature before me. His beady little eyes glared back at me, surely wishing to cause me pain and suffering.

I looked on in utter disgust at his bulbous, disgusting nose, nostrils flaring which each intake of breath.

My jaw dropped open at the mere sight of him and to my horror, he imitated me, opening his thin-lipped mouth to expose a set of yellowish, worn down, chalk-like teeth.

Through his pasty, frail neck, I could see his Adams Apple bobbing up and down like some horrible, dead bellyacher out at sea.

The beast had a shaggy, oil-saturated head of hair that traveled from the top of his head, down the side of his face, long enough to look atrocious, but short enough to allow his withered ears to peek out as if to say, "Hey, look at us. We're terrible."

Unable to control my distaste, I lashed out at the beast, spitting into his face. To my horror, he did the same to me almost simultaneously. Luckily, he missed, but I could see my phlegm oozing down his oily cheek.

Finally, I was unable to face this monstrosity any longer.
Revolted and nauseated, I quickly turned away from the mirror and went about my morning routine.