Perfection
The reflection staring back at him was his own. There he stood, in the darkness of the room, all lights out but for the faint sliver, which crept from below the small space between the curtain and the floor. Although it was not much, he could make out the outline of his nose. Even in the darkness, he knew how perfect he looked. He raised his fingers and slowly caressed his cheekbone. Until recently, they bore the scars of acne he had while growing up. Undertaking massive skin care treatments, they became a thing of the past now. He moved his fingers again and this time, lightly touched his lips. They felt full and soft. He could not believe how dry and chapped they used to be at one point. He ran his fingers through the mane of thick hair on his head. He recalled the amount of products he used to kept them soft and silky over the years, after having re-grown them post getting a transplant. He took pride whenever people com...