Two of Us

Suggested cornflakes over snowflakes this morning, got neither, but left with the silence of creaking boards under foot.

Voice behind me says, all is well old boy, ready the razor for a good shave. Wiping the mirror from heavy steam, I see myself, not quite the same person.

Hearing the voice again I listen, starring straight ahead and wide eyed, with every notice of my mouth not moving. Don't worry, we got this friend, one lucky stroke at a time, shall you start or I?