“Sphinx, will you stop talking to the mirror?” I blurted out. “The me that’s in there is all wrong!” “Yep. You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?” He turned around absentmindedly, as if he really was talking to someone else and I’d interrupted him. Then he focused on me, which was even more disconcerting. I felt a headache coming on. “All right,” he said. “Let’s forget about that you, the one living in the mirror.” “Are you saying he is not me?” “He is. But not quite. He is you seen through the lens of your image of yourself. We all look worse in the mirror than we actually are, didn’t you know
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