Mirror Mirror

It's my bathroom and/or bedroom (though, in that odd, weird, dream way, it looks nothing like either). I am looking into a large round mirror at my face and shoulders and a Lilting Voice is telling me all the good and peaceful and well-balanced things there are to imagine and perceive about my lovely face. I don't remember the words, just the tone of Voice.

The room is full of mirrors and pillows, but they all seem to fit here. It is the sort of place where a half dozen or so mirrors would naturally go. Nothing odd about that at all.

I look into a smaller, tighter, rounder mirror that encircles just my face. Suddenly a gnarled, smoking Baritone reaches out to me from the void; telling me all the bad, wretched, hopeless, fatalistic things there are to imagine and perceive about my face.

I wake up, choosing which Voice to believe.