The House of Mirrors - A Memoir

It was the first house i had ever been in that did not have wardrobes. This man kept his clothing behind a wall of sliding mirrors. There was nothing in his bedroom buta bed and an armchair and me. He left me lying on his bed while he went to the bathroom to get ready. The blood drained from my cock, and i started to feel the chill of the house. At the bay window, i copped my hands around my eyes and stared out at the black sea. But my fingers left a greasy mark that worsened when i tried to wipe it away. It was the kind of detail that would have killed my mother.