It had been some eighteen months of solitude that Harjen had endured, some days better than others, when he came to the full realization of what he had discovered. Not only did he ask himself continually, “Why me?”, but he also began to find himself hardening to his own reflection.
One day, on a walk up above the surface, he walked slowly along the riverside. The area in which he had come to reside benefitted from a moderate climate. The temperature, whether at night or during the day, rarely moved outside of the range of sixty to eighty degrees fahrenheit. Thus, it was never exceedingly hot or cold enough to make the epidermis feel uncomfortable.
The day in question, Harjen was walking slowly along, when he found himself enraptured by his own reflection rippling in the water. He was clearly in need of a thorough haircut and a shave, but aside from the hairs on his face that often tickled the inside of his nose, he had never fully taken into account how he appeared on the outside. He knew the extent to which his body had morphed on the inside, but when he caught his own reflection, between the ripples in the water, he was startled, to say the least.
To be continued…