steampunksnowwhite
The door knocker rapped sharply, incessantly as I darted to the door. Wrestling with the lock and chain hurriedly, I swung open the door to greet the two officers standing in the porch, wearing grave expressions.
"May we have a word with you?"
The man blinked several times, looking at the reflection in the mirror. Various pots and tubes lay around the sink as the stage makeup ran from his face, revealing what he most wanted to see.
What he wanted to be.
Himself.