A form in my periphery draws my eyes from the flight board, and I see…myself? An exact replica.
Impossible.
But in my core, I know it isn’t.
If she’s seen me, she doesn’t show it. She walks briskly, towing her suitcase. On a mission.
I need to follow her, but I’m stunned, motionless.
I’m jostled sideways as some phone-absorbed guy plows into me. “Sorry,” I say—pure reflex.
Glowering at me, he presses forward.
In those precious seconds, she vanished. Frantically, I scan the infinite branches of the concourse for the missing part of me barely realized, now gone again.
I liked this story and the possibilities which it hinted at.
Also if some lout in the pub spills your pint, the reflex is to say “sorry” so I know what you mean.
Interesting read which left me wondering where she went… could be a longer story…kudos…
I like this a lot. It feels like an experience.
Reminds me a bit of Millicent Barnes, the main character in Rod Serling’s Mirror Image episode of Twilight Zone.
Bravo! I enjoyed both.
Intriguing story – really enjoyed it, especially ‘the infinite branches of the concourse.’
Never happened to me.
I’m amazed that you are able to switch genres so easily. And always you keep me absorbed.
Well done!