Writing Prompt

he found himself looking back at him. Shocked, he stumbled back and fell on his ass. The cover clattered to the floor, the sound reverberated through the night. The garbage bag which he was holding fell to the floor. He sat there, momentarily disorientated, wondering if what he saw was correct. He tried to stand up slowly, taking his time, both of his hands supporting himself on the cold, hard floor. When he found his footing, he tried to approach the trash can again. He slowly inched towards it, the black abyss that is its interior becoming much more visible with each step.
This could not be right. He rubbed his eyes, closed them, took a few deep breaths and opened them again. But the same face stared up at him, mirroring his movements and facial expression.
What is this? Some kind of nightmare? How am I suppose to throw the damn garbage with my face looking back at me? He thought.
Hesitantly, he reached out his hands and tried to touch his image. His index finger created a ripple in the image. It was cold to the touch, like putting your finger in a glass of cool water. However, when he tried to withdraw his finger, he could not. Suddenly, the mirrored image winked at him. Panicking, he tried as hard as he could to free his finger, but to no avail. The image continued to smile at him, as though it knew something that he does not. In a blink of an eye, the image swallowed him whole and Arthur was never seen again.