Narcissus. Paul Sandmann

Slowly, with each inch of perfect beauty that he beheld, it returned. The hideous creatures around him dissolved, and the charnel ground that he had sensed around him just before vanished into the void. He alone stood there, and what a picture he was: With every breath he drew himself up a little taller, until he stood facing himself, upright, thrusting out his chest. His dark hair hung in ringlets around his features. His lips were fuller than ever. Beneath them, his cleft chin cast a haughty shadow. Lost in thought, he knelt down once more to change the music, then went into the shower and finally began to enjoy the feel of water on his skin.