same, same ...

The wall mirror in the guestroom was the first thing he shattered. He didn’t care about the “bad luck” superstition; he was too elated to care. He’d stared at the glass for more than an hour and, finally – splash! Glass flew everywhere, but none touched him. It was as though he were in some sort of protective bubble. He moved on to the mirror in the bedroom. Same. The wine crystal in the dining room – same, same, same, same, same.