Altered

/ #creative writing #pod story  /2 min read

So maybe, I was crazy, or perhaps I’d smoked a little too much, but I think I saw myself, looking at me while I lay on the couch, pondering.

She looked like me but not like me. I know, sounds confusing, she had my features, my eyes, my mouth but she didn’t look like I look. The pudgy belly, the fat under her chin and what was with the hair? All messed up and nappy.

Mine was cropped and golden, hers was dirty brown and in a poorly shaped afro like she just got up and hadn’t put any product in it.

She stared at me, I stared back, but neither of us was startled by the other. The stares were out of curiosity, then as suddenly as she appeared, she was gone.

I looked at the space which she’s just occupied, then I lay my head back and stared at the ceiling. I let my eyes run from one corner to the other along the seam where it meets the wall. No thoughts were going through my head. Nothing relating to what I’d just seen, nothing to do with anything. Slowly my heavy eyelids closed, I opened them again, but there were too heavy, and they forced themselves back closed.

Within seconds I was asleep.