Stepping out of the shower, I glimpse someone in my mirror. I pause a moment to examine the man who's staring at me.
His sagging jowls.
His chest, which used to be north, has gravity pulling it south.
His stomach with love handles that have never been loved.
He suddenly stands tall, taking in a hearty deep breath, choking, as his stomach pulls in, then suddenly pops out.
He looks at his ass which used to be rounder, firmer, an object of personal pride.
There are wrinkles and folds where there used to be tan lines.
Egad... is it 2043 already?
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