My room is now a mirror motif. Walls and ceiling are now giant mirrors, as are the closet doors.
I’ve stripped carpet bare, painted the floor silver, and buffed it to a reflective gleam.
The furniture’s covered in mirrorshard, and even my beddings are a reflective nylon material.
With lights on (I’ve tampered with the switch such that they can’t be turned off) no matter where I stand all I see is myself reflected back, onward to infinity.
I’ve done this to see how long it takes to drive me mad.
It’s been nine seconds.
I profoundly regret my decision.