The Death Posture - Bosse-de-Nage

In the next room there is a faint cry from a woman who fades rapidly.

My horror and curiosity draw me to the front door.

On the other side of its mirror threshold a man waits for me.

His countenance mutates and changes the nature of the world.

He forces me into the Death Posture.

Prone before the mirror I experience an ineffable transubstantiation.

I regret his gift of oblivion.

A single moment of reflection, panic and terror then an unconscious journey and

evaporation.

The Death Posture offers no time for awareness or knowledge.

I cry desperately for help, but in the next room all they hear is a faint cry

from a man who fades rapidly.