Michael Malone - Weebly

in the mirror paralyzed him. The eyes in the mirror were
hateful and frightening. And yet he couldn't turn away
from the mirror, for he had to be certain he would be
seen.
The penis was limp again, chafed sore by now from
being rubbed too long with panicked vigor. He felt a
sudden vehemence swell up in him as if he would rip the
flabby organ off and fling it away. Something had to
happen. Whatever the problem, it was costing him too
much time. He couldn't afford it. It had gotten out of
hand. His life up in this room was seeping out under the
door and following him into Dingley Falls. It wasn't that
what he did in the room distressed him. All guys read
pornography. And if you happened to be the kind of
guy with a lot of sperm, you had to get it out of your
system. As for his uniforms and fantasies, he did not
analyze their rationality, and though he was aware of
fear that he might be overseen and caught out, he did
not translate this dread as guilt. Besides, everybody had
a right to his own privacy. The world of the mirror was
beginning to demand too much of him, that's all. He was
losing control of the store. All his life he had made a