There

I guess it all started a rainy Wednesday. I felt like a complete failure. My optimism was shattered, just like glass... I had learned how to cope with it. So that day, I wore my red jacket on purpose. My mind was tired, I thought of nothing, I sang about nothing, as I kid myself that for a brief moment, everything was alright. I drove for awhile... then stopped to walk. It was about 5:09pm when I felt someone walking parallel to me. Eventually I realized we were walking to the same destination, and oddly enough in exactly the same direction... though he was walking on the other side of the street. He was holding an umbrella with his left hand, so I thought, and I thought correctly, he was left handed. He wasn't wearing a red jacket but his clothes seemed familiar. My eyes had poked the side of his head, and he turned to look. We stood there and stopped moving briefly. "Are you going to --?" he asked. His voice was shy and the tone was a bit off. Normally I would have walked faster to evade conversation, but this intrigued me.
"Yes" , I replied. Somehow we met in the middle of the empty street and we walked in silence side by side. We were the same height. I thought many times of talking, but nothing came up. So he awkwardly started to talk again. "Do you like rain?" Now his voice was firmer and for the first time, he looked at me while talking. I thought of something random to say... "Yes, I was born in the spring" to which he replied, "yea, I know what you mean".

By this moment, my anger had worn off. My optimism was irrelevant. I was intrigued by this being. We got to --, and he met some friends there. I sat alone on a table and ordered some distracting overpriced magenta drink. I saw him talking to some friends, and it was all insanely coincident. Eventually his friends left and I rose the courage to start another awkward conversation. "Dolphins have sex for pleasure" I uttered this and I felt fire explode from my mouth. I had to cough profusely to stop all the blood that rushed to my face. He laughed and told me there was some rumor flying around that Paul McCartney had died in the sixties and the one we know now, is a replacement they found. We sat for awhile and talked. He used a napkin to wipe his mouth and left it on the table, seconds before he left.

It was late and I was calmly tired. So I decided to leave about 15 minutes after he did. I stood up and picked my purse from the other side of the table... when I saw the smudge he left on the napkin. Right then I knew, on that rainy Wednesday night, I just briefly met the male version of myself.