It’s past midnight when I stroll barefoot into the Hall of Mirrors, my hands in the pockets of my red velvet smoking jacket. The vast hall, with its vaulted ceilings, dozen bay windows, and matching arched gold mirrors on either side, is my favorite part of Vainglory Tower. It connects my living quarters to the public areas of my apartments. I come here when I need to think. Something about staring at my reflection calms me. I’d be remiss to pinpoint my favorite feature. Everything about me is eye-catching. Delightful even. It reminds me of my own excellence. The magnificence of Wolfgang
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