Doppelganger

The market vendors begin to close up shop as I run from one side of the street to the other. Bit by bit, fruit and vegetables are being brought inside to protect them from the cold and theft.

The brisk wind blows hard tonight. It hurts. It feels like a rubber band is continuously pulled and released against the skin. Snap. From the looks of it, it will be a long winter.

My black toque warms my head, while a long scarf wraps around my neck. The last thing I need is a head and chest cold. My black peacoat wraps around me like a cashmere-blend blanket that is fitted perfectly to my form. I think of warm thoughts to alleviate the pain of potential frostbite.

While walking on the sidewalk, I see a vision. A reflection. The closer I get to it, the bigger the image becomes. A moving and living mirror.

Coming towards me is a young man with a black toque, long scarf, wrapped around his neck, and a black peacoat. The same look and the same walk. It’s me, or is it?

When he approaches, we stop, brush shoulders, and look into each other’s eyes. We move in slow motion as our coats touch and our eyes see something out of normality. Awkward. There, in the moment, are two men, with the exact features, stopping to look at the mirror image of the other.

We’re looking at ourselves, into each other’s eyes and we know too much. We know what happened, what is happening, and what happens – the past, present and future. A sharp pain shoots up our spines, and our posture stiffens.

We do a half-turn, twist our heads to ensure this isn’t our minds playing a trick, then continue on own way. For what seems like hours, is actually seconds.

There, in the cold night, two people become one, yet are individuals.

And, we're not bad looking, either.