You mourn that time passes so quickly and when you look at the mirror, you're standing quite still. What will change, you ask yourself and this is your fear, that everything will change and the mirror shows you un-changed still..

1. He looks at her, his young lover who never quite believes how old he really is. Naked in the afternoons, wrapped in forgetfulness and in her damp sheets, their skin, his brown and hers milky white are one and the same save for the color, negligible now, blurred as they join again and again.

2. Signs, a fortune teller had once foretold and he counts- one silver hair on his chin, one in the chest, an almost translucent curly wisp and one more at the base of his penis, starkly white against the purplish stem.

3. Why would you change me? Samuel had once asked, dying to be convinced. But he took his time- what would another day, another hour, another second compare to centuries. So he just smiles, flashes his charm, unnecessarily really because Samuel was his. Samuel was going to become the person he never thought he could become; he just didn't know it yet.

4. He was running late when the comet hit. Like a dream. Like something caught in your lashes. You blink for a second. You breathe in for what seems like an eternity before realization hits you- and this seems quite impossible because you're actually already dead, incinerated to dust by the intense heat of the equivalent of a thousand nuclear bombs exploding- and it does, you are aware, like some kind of final miraculous reprieve, that life, this violent and cataclysmic ending, is what it's supposed to be.