One day, I met my doppelganger in the street.
I had read that this could be a psychologically disastrous experience.
And indeed it was.
Seeing as how my life seemed shattered beyond repair, I did the only thing I felt left to me.
I drew my revolver and shot myself.
I then bent over my lifeless body, picked up my revolver, and put it inside my coat.
I saw my reflection in a window.
I drew my revolver and fired.
The window fell into many pieces.
I looked at all the shards of glass.
My reflection was in every one.