He looks at the bathroom mirror, at his own reflection: filthy, filthy, filthy. Weak. Liar. Hypocrite. (The words won’t stop. Gumming up the works.) A hypocrite in need of another hit of morphine, he thinks.
Thank god for morphine, oh, yes… John would be very upset with him. But John’s not here to make him clean.
He washes his hands for the sixth time.
Absolutely stunning. Thank you!