Her glossy, black pupils meet the ancient, but thoroughly clean, mirror.

In a state when one can stare into the eyes of themselves staring into their own eyes.

She releases the twisted towel and without hesitation the thick curls fall onto her still dampened shoulders.

She slowly reaches forward, carefully outstretching her hand to smear the steam from the mirror too cold for its temperature to have been altered.

The shoulder droplets formed together and created two diminutive streams that rolled down her lower back.

With her reflection no longer obscured, she stared at her mirror image that was staring into her eyes.

They smiled at her when they realized that she was no longer alone.