Maybe you lost a bet or have a group of now former friends. Maybe you thought because they called it "stoopid" hot it was more of gimmick than game. Maybe they ran out of sweet tea or you just don't care for sweets (you did skip the moonpie banana pudding). Maybe fries without ketchup are the newest craze or cole slaw is out. Maybe you enjoy a good backslap on sunburnt shoulders or shave with cold water and a months over-gone blade. Maybe you peel off band-aids slowly or wear hard-soled new shoes on meandering hikes. Maybe your love of papercuts is surpassed only by discovering them when making lemonade, which you happened to skip in lieu of an almost glass of tepid water. Or just maybe your golden gut of the gods simply smirked as you tore through that basket of fire with an unbridled fervor that would make a junkyard hound blush. But you left your phone on the bench, and my buddy Mitch has it.

"It's a mirror?" Only moments had passed since the light, a pin prick in the periphery at first, turned blinding, taking hold. Awash in white, a glint flickered across a sliver disc emerging from the void. Instinctively focusing on the reflection, my mind's eye turned out to see itself. Against the infinite blank I searched for the unknown, but my stark outline appeared familiar, unchanged. A grand expanse laid out for what, then? No answer, no instruction, but the light's intention could not be mistook. An electric heat crackled from my spine as the paralytic realization crystallized. "It's just me."