[ WP ] You are going about your business in a bathroom one day when you notice you reflection blink on its own . What do you do ?

I was rinsing my face. I remember that for three reasons. One, I always my rinse my face after I wash my hands. Two, because it was the last thing I did before I had confirmation of the existence of multiple planes of reality. 
 
 After rinsing my face, I reached for the towel as always- but paused to consider the circumstances of Jaleel White. If you put a graph of his social influence, it would be a pretty rapid rise and decline. My concern for this child star, and relief that he had fallen from prominence, was enough to slightly delay my reaching for the mirror-side hand towel. The reflection in the mirror continued undeterred and touched the towel, but just. 
 
 Now frozen along with me, my mirrored fingers were still touching the towel that my corporal fingers had yet to reach. I noticed panic in the face looking back at me, but I too felt panic- so this was as it should be. Unsure of the next move, and Jaleel White completely forgotten, I began to consider rational causes for the situation in which I had found myself. 
 
 I had about settled on sleep deprivation before bearing witness to something no man has ever observed, the sight of his own eyes blinking in the mirror. 
 
 Before I could consider the extent of sleep deprivation's myriad effects on the perception of one's surroundings- I let out a sigh of resigned acceptance. The other me, that is. The I of which I was heretofore unaware. `` I guess the gig is up.'' 
 
 I heard the voice coming from my mind, in perfect synchronization with the lips flapping in the mirror of my suddenly over-populated bathroom. 
 
 `` Are you me?'' I managed. In hindsight there were many other questions I should have asked- and I would have if I had known where the next 60 seconds would take me. 
 
 `` You are you.'' The man said in my mind. `` I am part of you, like an arm.'' 
 
 `` My arms do n't talk to me.'' I said, being argumentative with myself. I never was good at making analogies, and even worse at understanding them. 
 
 `` Well, either way- you were n't supposed to see me. I'm your soul.'' 
 
 `` I did n't know I had one.'' I considered what this meant for my Sunday mornings from here on out. Before I considered how to get out of my nascent religious obligations- my reflection began walking to the left of my view.'' 
 
 `` Wait.'' He paused. `` Where are you going?'' 
 
 `` You noticed me.'' He smiled with the pride of a man starting the engine of a hand-restored car. `` I was finally noticed.'' 
 
 `` Why does that matter?'' I managed to ask before he was gone from view. 
 
 `` You'll see.'' He said, somberly. 
 
 I was rinsing my face. I remember that for three reasons. One, I always wash my rinse my face after I wash my hands. Two, because it was the last thing I did before I had confirmation of the existence of multiple planes of reality. And three, because it was the last thing I did that someone could have seen. 
 
 Someone on your side of the glass, of course.
