The bathroom is steamy, the mirrors fogged. I’m drying off when I see it. A large X on the medicine cabinet mirror. A loose circle surrounds it. Hastily scrawled, like it was spray painted.
It wasn’t there yesterday. Or the day before. Or a month ago.
No one else uses my bathroom. No one’s even been up to my floor.
But there’s a giant X on the mirror.
I freeze. Deep breaths. I study the mirror. The X is still there. I close my eyes. Open them.
I shiver, despite the post-shower warmth. I close my eyes again, and listen. Nothing. I open them again and look at the larger mirror over the sink. No markings. No messages.
The X and the circle seem to laugh at me.
I rush out of the bathroom and grab my iPhone. I’m half expecting the X to have faded in the few seconds I was gone.
I snap this photo and leave.