Sighing, he looked back at the mirror. The words still stared back at him. The letters bright red. Slashes of blood across the glass.
Slashes of blood across his hands, her dress, her body, the floor...
Oh, god!
This is why I was scared. Paragraph six... hurts already.
And, as he watched, a lipstick moved in front of him and letters appeared as if out of nowhere.
IT’S ME. I THINK I’M A GHOST
/me giggles...
Like lightening, another message appeared on his mirror.
IF YOU’RE DREAMING THEN SO AM I
OMG! Forget the first message, Julie, *this* is where he should by all rights drop dead.
And then he noticed that something - someone? - was holding the towel against the mirror, trying to erase some of the writing. With one stride, he was there, grabbing the towel and wiping furiously, using his heat vision to melt the lipstick a little to make it easier to remove.
I don't know why I do, but I really, really love that amidst all this insanity he's assuming, he's still a gentleman like that. But not just that, he's disbelieving, but eager to read more. I probably just butchered what I was trying to say, but hopefully you'll know what I mean.
Yeah, right. More evidence that this wasn’t Lois. She’d never been lost for words in her life.
Good point, but given the situation...
IF IT’S NOT LEAD-LINED, DON’T BOTHER
