The Animals All Are Gathering

Narcissus of the Damned

25 narcissus of the Damned One day Martin can’t see any reflections. He looks in the mirror on the medicine cabinet and it’s like looking through glass at his Wellbutrin. He drives to work but can’t use his rear-views— they are simply dead black plastic. Most of his car is now his blind spot, and he twists frantically to change lanes, his spine becoming a rotini. He tells Chris at work. “Are you a vampire?” Chris asks. “It’s not that I don’t see my reflection— I don’t see any reflection.” They go into the bathroom. “See?” Chris sees Martin in the wall-long mirror. Martin sees naught but grayish glass hanging in front of light green paul text i-84 -3.indd 25 7/20/10 3:17 PM 26 tiles. “So you’re not a vampire,” Chris says. “I hadn’t thought I was,” Martin says. Chris shrugs and goes back to his cubicle. But at least the glare is gone now from Martin’s computer and he has fewer headaches and is more productive. And since he can’t fix his hair the secretary Josie offers. She thinks he’s cute. She leans, and he knows he mustn’t look at her cleavage. “Her eyes, look at her eyes,” he thinks. But there are no upside-down Martins in her eyes. Just black, and a slim hint of optic nerve. He is horrified. Worse, he looks at her face, and whatever he once saw that made him want to fuck her is gone. She is just tissue over bone, practically a cyborg to him. paul text i-84 -3.indd 26 7/20/10 3:17 PM 27 He stares and stares. She sees him stare. “Martin,” she flirts, “I think you love me.” paul text i-84 -3.indd 27 7/20/10 3:17 PM ...