When I opened the door, he was there. He looked up for a moment, smiled, waved, and then went back to studying the screen.

I stopped back out. The sign next to the door still had my name on it. I reopened the door.

"Excuse me," I said. "I think you might be in the wrong office."

"Passive language," the man said. "We can't have that."

He said this to me as he continued to study the screen, only briefly looking up at the monitor to register my presence.

"Who are you?" I said.

"Obviously," he said. "I'm me." I looked at him and began to notice some similarities. The sports jacket, the jeans, and the T-shirt attempting to make a funny but profound statement about life were the same as mine. The hair, or gradual lack of it, was mine. The eyes and glasses were mine. I was standing before me and pondering how to say or write, which hurt my head.

I stepped in and closed the door.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm your other. Sort of your clone. I'm here to do your writing?"

"What?"

"I'm here to do your writing."

"I do my writing."

"Apparently, not well. No, you do the writing that we sort of put over there." He pointed to the corner. The wastebasket was full to overflowing. I stepped forward and picked up a sample. I knew these words. I had written them before stepping out to take a break.

"What are you writing then?"

"I'm writing better."

"What does that mean?" I turned to look over his shoulder, my shoulder, at the work he was completing. It was better. It was insightful, and the phrases turned into a pirouette, capturing my ideas more elegantly than the discarded junk I held.

"How do you do that?" I asked.

"I just open up and write what I am feeling. It's easy."

I had tried this many times without success. Me, or he, or however you refer to the doppelganger of yourself before you, was doing it easily.

(This is a sequel to "What's with the Torch?" and "Torch the Fucking Place!")

The moment I entered my office, I knew something was wrong. I’d normally be greeted by the solemn nod of the head, or the always welcoming "good morning." But today I was greeted by frowns with the pulling back of one's head. That and mumbling from under one's breath. I initially thought there was something wrong with my face. Was there something dangling out of my nose? Was there some weird zit on my forehead? Did I hit my head and not realize it and now there was a massive laceration on my face?

I made a detour to the bathroom to see if there were any concerns, only to find that I looked perfectly normal.

"Weird," I whispered to myself.

From behind me, the bathroom stall opened and my coworker Cristian walked out. He too gave me a look of bewilderment.

I searched for the question to ask him but he beat me to it.

"Whoa, dude. Why'd you change your clothes?"

I frowned. "What the hell are you talking about I just got here."

Cristian narrowed his eyes. "What the hell are you talking about, Ian? We got here at the same time."

"I literally just walked in."

Cristian's eye's widened. "Well, then there's some dude who looks just like you at your desk, taking calls and responding to your emails. Pretty sure he's using your IM…probably trying to hit on Jenny."

I felt my body go stiff, every nerve tightening as my mouth fell open. I knew who was sitting at my desk.

Cristian turned the faucet on and began washing his hands. "Should probably go see who's stealing your identity bro."

I left the bathroom without answering, my heart hammering in my chest as I made my way through the office. In the distance I could see him, sitting at my desk wearing my blue flannel, sporting the New Balance shoes I'd purchased a few months ago. What was he doing here? Why was he here of all places? And most importantly, how did he get here?

I could see him typing away to someone on Microsoft Teams. Moving closer I could see...

That he was talking to Jenny! This son of a bitch!

I grabbed his office chair and spun him around. "You've got a lot of nerve showing up here," I said through gritted teeth.

The last thing I wanted to do was create a scene. But that's pretty hard to do when your coworkers blatantly see you talking to yourself.

He raised both hands in defense, and in his eyes, I saw...sympathy?

"Whoa. Ian. I know what you're thinking. And I'm not here to fight, I'm here to make peace."

"Oh...fuck you." I snarled. "You blatantly tried to kill me!"

He kept a calm demeanor, his hands up in front of his face. "You torched my house."

Everyone in the office was staring at us. Looks of pure confusion on their faces. From across the office, I could see Jenny staring at us. Her eyes were wide, her mouth hanging open. Her head moved back and forth between me and myself.

"We need to get out of here," I whispered.

Ian agreed.

We tried to discreetly leave my office, which was useless since we made a scene, and decided to meet up at a bar down the street.

"So what the hell are you doing here?" I asked as I took a sip from my beer.

I watched as he...or I searched for the right words. Jesus. Did I look that bad when I was trying to find the right words to say? I looked like I didn't know a lick of English. Is this why I was still single? Was this why women rejected me on the norm?

He shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly. I'm just going to say it. You guys scared the crap out of us when you guys walked into our kitchen."

"So your solution was to chase us around with steak knives?" I retorted.

He held his hands up in defense. "Put yourselves in our shoes. I mean really think about it. You're having breakfast and YOU emerge from the basement."

"Probably wouldn't attack you with steak knives," I scoffed. And then I realized that we didn't own the fancy steak knives they did.

"Alright. Ian, I'm sorry. Cal and I both are." He paused and took a sip from his beer. "You guy's stumbled on to something big, and it's in both of our houses, spanning across the multiverse. I figured we'd come by and...just see how things are."

He seemed friendly, he even seemed inviting. I felt I was a decent judge of character, and he…or I, seemed genuine. I wasn’t really in the mood to fight myself, so I decided to hear him out.

"What do you want to know?"

He smiled, nodded his head, and took a big swig from his beer. "Let's start with Jenny. I mean...I just can't get over the fact that you're not married to her."

I damn near spit my beer all over him. I threw my hand over my mouth to prevent that from happening. "You're married to Jenny!??!"

He nodded and smiled. "Going on three years."

God this felt awful. I'd been head over heels in love with Jenny for...four years and here I was married to her in another dimension. I was lucky to have lunch with her. This was just great. In one afternoon I'd managed to hate myself even more, and it wasn't even myself.

"Cristian seemed like a good guy too...which is weird." He said.

"And why is that," I muttered, trying my best to hide my disdain from myself.

He thought it over, his eyes going upwards as he thought about his answer. "Well, because I took Jenny from him in my universe."

This was way too much for me to process. I felt like I needed six or seven more beers with a few shots of whiskey. I would be hanging out with myself in another universe, where he was doing unanimously better than me.

He seemed to read my concern. "Listen. I think we can figure something out here. We're onto something big."

We were onto something big. The ability to traverse through different universes was in our basement, and we'd uncovered it by accident. I had a whirlwind of questions to ask him. How and when did he get here? Why was his world so weird when it came to going through doorways? How was Jenny in bed?

I was on the verge of asking him a question when I felt my cell phone go off in my pocket. I retrieved it and saw that I had a text from Cal. I tapped it open:

Dude. Come home. I just killed myself.

“I think you’re in the wrong…” the rest of my sentence dies in my throat.

Because the person sitting at my desk is ME.

I open and close my mouth in quick succession, still hardly believing what I’m seeing. “What’s happening? This is my-“

“My office, Charlie,” the other me says tiredly, “now, believe it or not, I’m trying to work.”

I set my briefcase beside the door, only to see an identical one already there. Only where mine is scuffed and peeling at the edges, this one looks brand new.

“This can’t be happening,” I say - quite literally to myself. “How is it even possible?”

The other me sighs quite dramatically, putting down his pen with Herculean effort. “Upper management called me in. Said you were slacking and rather thought you could do with a productivity boost.”

“Well, that’s a bit rude,” I reply, “they could’ve sent me a verbal warning at least.”

The other me points to the bin beside my desk. “They already did. You have a habit of throwing them out.”

“Then you’ll have that habit too,” I mutter, shoving my hands in my pockets, watching the other me’s eyes narrow.

“I think you’ll find I respond much better to upper management,” he says tersely, “I’m writing them an email as we speak.”

My stomach clenches, the tuna sandwich I had for lunch threatening to reappear like a poorly timed magic act. “What are you saying?”

“The truth.” The other me shrugs. “Your reluctance to accept upper management’s decision to support you-“

“By CLONING me!”

“And your determination to ignore all correspondence from them-“

“Because it’s, like, pages of reading. Why can’t they sum it up in a sentence?”

“Not to mention you’re incapacity for letting others speak.”

I clamp my mouth shut on my readying retort.

“And, oh dear,” the other me says sarcastically, “I’m not sure you’ll even be able to proofread it for me. It’s pages of reading.”

“I… I…”

“That’s nice,” the other me presses send with a flourish of his hand, “now if you must sit in here, could you at least do so quietly. I have work to do.”

Somehow I managed not to drop my coffee, and instead just stared, slack-jawed, at the woman sitting at my desk. She was me. She was absolutely me. I spend a lot more time than I probably should thinking about how I look to other people, and there she was - long dark hair, pale hands tapping away at the keyboard, brow furrowed and chapped lips pursed as she focuses on her reply to one of the many emails of the morning.

But I was standing right here, next to my desk. So she couldn’t be me, even if she looked just like me. Who was she?

My doppelgänger, catching me staring at her out of the corner of her eye, glanced up.

“Oh,” she said, standing and coming towards me. I took a step backwards reflexively.

“Don’t freak out,” she said softly. “Let’s just step over here so we don’t confuse too many people.”

“What do you want with me?” My voice quavered.

She frowned slightly. “I don’t want anything. You won the contest, remember?”

“What contest?”

“The essay contest, saying what you would do if you had a no-strings-attached, all-details-taken-care-of month off from your regular life. You wrote about that fantasy novel you’re working on. And you won the contest. Didn’t you get the confirmation email?”

“I did, but… I thought it was a prank! I wrote that for fun!”

“All the more reason to take the month off and finish that novel.” My doppelgänger patted me on the shoulder. “I’m here to take care of all the details in your regular life. So don’t worry about it! Go do whatever you want, and I’ll check back in with you in about three weeks with any important updates.”

I was having trouble processing. “But I have a meeting with -“

“No, I have a meeting. YOU have a novel to write.” She grinned at me. “So get out of here already!”

“Anything good?” I asked and took a sip of coffee. Other me sighed and rubbed her eyes. “If I have to type ‘per my previous email’ one more time I might actually go find these people and hit them.” It was a good thing I worked from home, or else two of me might be alarming. “We both know you wouldn’t do anything like that.” The other me was always so timid, too afraid of confrontation. It was easy to keep her doing all the work while I got to play. Her only response was a sigh. I stirred the coffee slowly with my finger, slightly disappointed that it had already cooled. “You know, if you could get my their names and address-“ “No!” She yelled at me. “Hell, with social media it would be easy to find them with just a name.” I suggested, ignoring her protest. “Your not killing anyone else!” It always amused me when she fought me. How cute. “Oh?” I cooed. “We can’t keep doing this.” She looked just like me when I get mad. Only her words were just that; words. “Then give it up, love. Let me take over. You’ll feel much better.” I offered. Other me mumbled something under her breath. “No one likes a mumbler dear,speak up.” She stood quickly and spun around to face me. Her fists were clenched by her sides. Interesting. “I was here first!” She shouted. Eye contact and yelling, that was new to her. “So ungrateful. You literally BEGGED me to come into your life! Or don’t you remember? You and your little ghost hunter friends, desperate to make contact with a real live demon, and you did. I picked you, and this is how you treat me?! After I fixed your little…problem?” I added an extra layer of venom on the last word. “He wasn’t a problem! I loved him!” She bit back. Perhaps I was finally getting to her. “He hit you, repeatedly. I may just be a simple demon, but even I know that’s not love.” Humans we’re so utterly ignorant. It however did make them easy to manipulate. “You didn’t have to kill him!” She was getting louder, firmer. “Now, now, let’s not forget. The blood is on your hands my dear.” With not much more than a thought, I played my little trick. Screams echoed the room as she looked down at her hands, now dripping in bright red blood. “Stop it! Stop it! I never wanted this! I didn’t want this!” With a sigh I waved the blood away, it left along with my patience. “Yes. You did. I can’t just take a body without permission, that’s not how it works.” The human’s silly movies gave them all the wrong ideas about demons. They gave us far too much credit, but it worked to our advantage. “Oh yeah, we’ll I want you gone!” She screamed and stormed out of the room. I laughed as I followed her. “You’ve tried before, how did that work for you?” I antagonized her. She pulled something out of a box and faced me. A spray bottle? “I didn’t have this last time!” She aimed the bottle at me. There was triumph in her eyes as the pushed the nozzle. “Ugh! That’s just rude!” I wiped the fluid from my face. Her face dropped. “What?! He said it was real holy water!” She was panicking.
“Im growing tired of these games. When will you learn I’m not going anywhere? Just give up and let me take over from here.” I feigned a calm patient tone. “No! I want you gone! You aren’t welcome here anymore!” She screamed. “You thi-“ My voice caught in my throat as I felt a pull deep in my chest. Oh no. “You are evil and I want nothing to do with it! Leave here now demon! You have no home here anymore!” The pull grew stronger, threatening to tear me apart. “You need me!” I pleaded with her, but she was already speaking again. “Evil cannot remain here any more. I demand you to leave this place and go back to where you are from!” A ripping sensation ran through my body, causing every cell of my being to dissipate. Home it was then. “See you there.” I managed to whisper as I tumbled down into the abyss.

Creak. Click. Hiss. The floor. The key fob. The door. Welcoming hubbub suddenly dissipates into an eerie suspension of silence. Wide eyes stare. Collars shifted uneasily. Shoes scratched anxiously at the loose carpet fibres. A low cough split the tense atmosphere. The simple sound wove itself craftily into the fabric of time, adding an extra dimension.

Unable to stand the unspoken accusation of something unknown, your feet propelled you forward. Through the main office space and out the fire door on the opposite wall. You jumped as the hefty metal clanged firmly closed behind you. Patting down your sharp suit you nonchalantly continued your journey to your excluded office, no one could know that your heart was pounding itself into an early grave.

What was your role in the company? Chief Executive Officer. Yes, the CEO. Yet no one offered you an ounce of respect. Today was your last day... Your resignation letter swirled vivaciously around each intricate folds of your rubbery grey matter. The only perks of this job were the paycheques and the isolated office at the end of the long corridor, next to the cleaning supplies.

With every step the sense of finality drew you closer to its warm interior; draping a soft cashmere blanket of midnight blue around your shuddering shoulders. You sigh softly at the imagined comfort. But was it imagined though?

The scent of freshly brewed tea snuck under the door. Sweet notes of orange danced lightly, caught in a twirling embrace with the soft tropical flirt of hibiscus. Bitterness of the lemon hung of the outskirts, never the chosen one. There was someone in your office.

You always had zingy fresh peppermint tea in the mornings, before flitting between the myriad of other flavours neatly organised in your tea chest. Coffee reminded you of a dull bitter life, one that was stuck in the slow lane and never going anywhere. The aromatic beans left you feeling uninspired, plus there was only so many unoriginal ways to liven a mug of the earthy brown liquid.

Herbal tea, however, could transport, inspire and cure virtually any situation. Can't sleep? Chamomile tea. Feeling nauseous? Ginger tea, with honey and lemon. Need an uplift? Chai tea, not only good for the energy but also cognitive functions and reducing blood pressure. Immune system need a power up? Blackcurrant tea. Seriously, you could write a whole book on the variety of herbal tea and its uses.

With thoughts of your secret addiction floating around in shifting clouds, you shove open your door. It was your office. Intruder or not, you didn't need to knock. Especially since there were no concerning sounds emanating through the wooden panel. Only the distant click and tap of nails on keys, busily typing. Unless they knew your password there was no way that they could be on your computer.

Your eyes fell out of their sockets as you stared at a near perfect reflection of yourself. The only give away was the inch of difference in your hair length. Apart from that they looked like a clone. "Hello? Who are you?" Your words trembled lightly, as you confronted yourself.

"Sorry, are you talking to me?" Their sharp hawk-like eyes raked the room, baring its bones.

"I am. I want to know why you are in MY office." Crossing your arms you matched their stare with equal furiosity.

Slowly, with deliberate movements, they rose from your worn swivel chair. Pacing across the open space, licking their lips, as they got closer you beat a hasty retreat. Until you felt the cool arms of the wall catch you, holding you in place. Hot fear stained your curving cheekbones. Rattling your cage, making it hard to catch your breath. An icy clawed hand slipped under your skin, violently twisting your gut. Stomach acid boiled, rising and biting at your throat.

Through a calculated analysis they murmured, like autumn leaves shivered in the cool breeze, "You're scared of me, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes. The fear dances just as small firefly flits trying to remain unnoticed, yet failing because it forgets it glows and flashes in the darkness."

"I don't fear you! You can't scare me, because you're the same being as me, just in a different shell..." Blocks of pearl snap back at the accusation. Eliciting a bubbling giggle to rise from your doppelgänger.

Without warning their lips were on yours, sucking like leeches drinking their fill. Shoving them away mortified, disgust compels you to wipe your contaminated mouth. An unspoken question flares up, raising an eyebrow in alarm.

"You love yourself too much, the pride and ego that burns inside you make you an infallible creature. Drives people away, why do you think the employees hate you? I kissed you because we are essentially the same person, though physically we look the same our inner motives are very different; so I was just showing you the love you feel for yourself." Dismissing their own statement with a shrug that left you dumbfounded.

Eyes flashing dangerously you growl out low, "Get out of my office. Now." Your fists curl up, like a flower starved of sunlight and water.

They lean in close, as they head for the door, "I always wanted a business like this and now I have it. No one will suspect a thing. Only your friends, if you have any, and your family, if they care, will miss you."

There was no time to react as something sharp pressed up against your blazer, fighting past the cotton weave. Nimbly, unzipping your soft thin flesh. Gasping as the cold metal warmed itself on your insides. Horror painted itself bold and bright across your face. Too stunned to do anything you felt the handle buck up against the barrier, unable to go where its lover had ventured. You felt it pierce your heart, the momentary gushing of your life force as it slipped from your grasp. Finality spilt its ink darkening the dusky sky, no longer navy wool kept you warm just the frigid blackness of mourning.

The light faded from your view as you were carried away by the sweet arms of the angel. Bought into a realm that never releases the soul, once caught there is no escape from the sticky gossamer trap of honey. Here there were no worries, only calm serenity.

In the office your doppelgänger smiled, their competition eliminated. Crimson rivers oozed out around the blade’s handle. Eager to watch the ruby falls, they yank back releasing the body from the single sharp claw.

Immediately, the corpse crumpled gurgling as it drowned in the sea of dead air. Scarlet and burgundy gathered into a glistening pool, encircling the prey. Dipping their fingers into the thick sticky liquid, they raised it to their nose. Inhaling deeply becoming high on the ghostly sweet scent. Licking their fingers clean they moan softly as the taste of coppery ancient coins runs over their taste buds. The taste of victory lingered as they snapped their bony digits; expelling the body and bloody pool from the office, never to be seen or mentioned of again.

Cornelia walked to her office slowly, weighed down by Monday blues after a fun weekend with her family. She ran into her assistant, Walter.

“Ah, good morning, Walter!” She smiled at the thin, nervous man in front of her. “Hope you had a nice weekend. Just want a quick update on the Lopez contract, and then you can get me my espresso, with one spoon of sugar and... two, shots of cream. I’m feeling adventurous.” And Cornelia, done with her crisp instructions, proceeded to march to her office, expecting her assistant to trot behind her obediently. So she was quite frustrated when she didn’t hear the clack of his boots following her.

“Well, Walter, what are you waiting for? Have you forgotten the routine we follow? Or do I now have to invite you to follow me?”

Walter smiled nervously. “Uh... Miss Strope, I’ve already given you the update. And brought you your coffee. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cornelia was confused. “What do you mean, you’ve done all that? I just came in!”

“I’m sorry, Ms Strope, I don’t mean to be rude, but I gave you your cup in your office not two minutes ago. In fact, I don’t know how you got here so fast, since I didn’t see you at all.” And now Walter looked a little suspicious. But Cornelia blanched. She thought she had a very good idea of what was going on.

“Eh, well... happy April fools’! I fooled you well, didn’t I Walter? Ha!”

“But ma’am, it’s the middle of September.”

“But we never celebrated April fools’ this year. So I thought we’d do it now. Now shoo. Continue doing... whatever it is you remember me asking you to do.” Walter, still looking perplexed, walked slowly away. Cornelia’s usually brisk, business-like gait sped up to become frenzied jogging, as she stormed into her office, shut the door and pulled the blinds down.

She found a person, so identical to her in appearance that she could have been looking into a mirror. This woman was calmly answering emails.

“Hello, Luna.” The doppelgänger looked up, and flashed Cornelia a bright, scarily wide smile.

“Hiya Nelly! How are you doing this fine morning, and how much will you be willing to pay me to leave?”

Cornelia sighed. She cursed the day she got into that voluntary genetic modification, chemical restructuring and anatomical reconstruction and reflection experiment for some extra cash, and smiled sweetly at her lookalike. “Well, Luna, I’m running out of cash from paying you every week. So I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of my life forever.”

Luna laughed manically. “But, Nelly, what’s the point of being a doppelgänger if I don’t get to use it to my advantage?” She smiled as though she were making a great compromise. “But, since you’ve become my very good friend, I’ll give you until next week to pay up. And I’ll reduce the payment to ninety percent. Deal?” And she continued with her emails, as though she expected affirmation, in that self-assured way that Cornelia only found attractive on her own self.

She rummage in her little handbag and pulled out a little gun. Very tiny, tiny enough to look like a little toy, but very real. She fingered the trigger gently. She’d been expecting this for weeks, preparing for it for even longer. If Luna refused to get out of her life, she would deliberately depose her.

“No deal,” Cornelia murmured softly, as she pulled the trigger of the gun aimed straight at her lookalike’s head. When Walter walked in five minutes later to hand in a project report, he saw his boss calmly answering emails. His eyes were immediately drawn to the slightly ajar door of her cupboard and the dull red stain on her white table.

Cornelia, noticing the direction of his gaze, laughed and said, “I spilled some juice that I’d brought to work on that darn table. It will be quite a while before the stain is fully gone. And I’ve stuffed some trash into my cupboard. Trash I should have disposed of a very long time ago. Don’t bother throwing it out, I’ll take care of it. You may leave.” And snatching the report from his hand, Cornelia unceremoniously shoved her assistant out of the room and slammed the door shut. Not for the first time, Walter wondered whether Ms Strope’s cold, cutthroat demeanour in her professional dealings was a part of her daily life too.

Shocked Jenna said,” Hello, what is your name?”

“I’m Cindy,” she said admittedly.

“Why are you doing my job?” said Jenna.

“Well…..I saw you on the street and wanted to meet you and figured no one but you would notice,” said Cindy. “Your boss isn’t here yet and I found the door unlocked sooo.”

“Do you know how to do my job? I could train you more quick then I really need a break. Then we could trade back after lunch?” said Jenna.

“I’ll do that,” said Cindy. “Today is my day off from my job. Meet me for lunch at Sue’s Coffee and Sandwich Shop on Main.”

“Wow! Thanks I need this break! See you then,” said Jenna.

Cindy continued to work while Jenna went home to rest and read her book until lunch. The boss didn’t notice the different employee.

At lunch Cindy and Jenna ordered drinks, soup and chicken croissants and sat together.

“So it’s uncanny how alike we look,” said Jenna. “Who are your parents?”

“My parents are Sally and James Knight,” said Cindy. “I grew up with my mom.”

“My last name is also Knight spelled K-N-I-G-H-T. I grew up with my dad and his name is James,” said Jenna.

Neither spoke for a few seconds letting the truth sink in. “So we’re twins? I didn’t know I had a twin,” said Cindy.

“I didn’t either,” said Jenna. “We need to figure this out and surprise our parents.”

“I agree. Mom lives in Indiana,” said Cindy.

“Dad lives in Michigan,” said Jenna. “The next holiday is Thanksgiving. Should we spring it on them at Thanksgiving or before?”

“I think before, then maybe we could do holidays together in the future,” said Cindy. “Is Dad married?”

“No, he was but she died of cancer,” said Jenna. “Is mom married?”

“It’s just me and her—a twosome. We have a lot of fun,” said Cindy.

“Let’s each call our parent and tell them what we know just to see their reactions.” said Jenna.

“We’ll meet here on Sunday,” said Cindy.

They each called the parent they grew up with. Cindy dialed the phone,”Mom, what’s up?”

“I’m tired and relaxing on the couch,” said Sally. “How are you?”

“I’m fine….I met a new friend today and… she looks like me,” said Cindy. “Her dad’s name is James.”

Jenna dialed her phone and James answered,” Hello.”

“Hey dad. How’s life? Do I have a twin sister?” said Jenna.

The silence on other end of the line screamed at her. “Dad?” said Jenna.

“Jenna, I’m shocked. How did you know?” said James through tears.

“I found her working at my desk when I arrived at work today. Then we met for lunch while she did my job and I had a much needed break,” said Jenna. “We figured out we had the same parents. Her name is Cindy and Sally lives in Indiana.”

“Wow! You learned a lot quick,” said James.

“Dad, why did you keep this secret from me?” said Jenna.

“Your mom and I decided it was for the best. We got along but at that time we had jobs in different countries and neither of us wanted to give in to move with the other,” said James as he walked around the room.

“Do you want to meet Cindy?” said Jenna.

“I’d love to but we need to run that past your mom first. I haven’t talked to her in years. Does she know you found each other?” said James.

“Cindy is telling her like I did and we’ll meet up on Saturday at the coffee shop,” said Jenna.

“Cindy what do you mean…….your new friend looks like you?” said Sally.

“Just what I said and I mean really looks like me. I met her for lunch today and we found out we have the same parents. Her name is Jenna and she lives with James Knight in Michigan,” said Cindy.

“They live in Michigan?” said Sally.

“That’s all you have to say, Mom! Why the secret? I would love to have known I had a twin sister,” said Cindy.

“Your father and I thought it best,” said Sally.

“We know about each other now. Can we meet?” said Cindy.

“I’ll call your father. Does he know?” said Sally.

Sally and James spoke and agreed to meet the girls on Saturday. Sally and James loved talking to their girls; it was a great day.

I walked briskly into my office building, my head still smarting where I’d fallen into the mirror earlier this morning. Silly really, I missed my alarm and woken up later than usual, and in my rush to get ready for the day ahead I’d tripped head first into the beautiful antique mirror I had purchased from a quaint little shop a few days ago. “Good morning, Janice!” I greeted the receptionist. Her puzzled expression should have been my first hint that something was off, but I’d barely noticed in my haste to get to the elevator. Getting off the elevator at the 13th floor, I made a quick stop at the break room for a much needed cup of coffee. However, as I reached for my favourite mug that I kept on the top shelf of the cupboard closest to the coffee machine, I saw that it was missing. No one had ever dared take my mug before! This should have been my second hint, but instead of heeding it I angrily filled another cup and stalked towards my office. Fortunately, it was not my favourite mug that fell from my hands as I opened the door and froze in shock. “Yes, Mr. Brighton, I will absolutely have that presentation ready for you on Thursday! Alright, see you then!” Came the voice from the brunette woman currently seated and typing away at my desk. My voice. “What in the-!?” “Excuse me, I’m in the middle of-“ The woman’s words cut off as she finally looked up from my computer, looking just as astounded as I was. “How- who-?” Unable to form words, I simply dropped onto the sofa against the wall nearest the door and stared into the frighteningly familiar blue eyes of my doppelgänger. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to settle myself, I tried to think of the most rational explanation- I was hallucinating. I had obviously hit my head harder than I’d realized that morning, and I have a concussion; that MUST be it. “I suppose I should have gone to the hospital after all.” “Sorry?” “This morning. I fell and hit my head against an old mirror, and now I’ve gone crazy; I should have gone to the hospital and gotten a CT scan.” “An old mirror? Large, oval, heavy ornamental gold frame?” “Yes, I bought it at a little antique shop on 16th and Main.” “A Past Life?” I nodded in confirmation. “You’re sure you bought this mirror there?” “Yes, of course I’m sure!” I snapped, not understanding why my hallucination seemed to be putting so much importance into the mirror and where I’d gotten it from. “I bought the same mirror, presumably at the same time, from the same place. The woman at the counter, she said-“ She hesitated, as if bracing herself against the impossibility of what she was considering “-she said it was cursed, that it’s “a mirror to the other side.”” I stared uncomprehendingly at her for a brief moment, before realization dawned on me and laughter bubbled it’s way up my throat. “You’re joking! You don’t truly believe in that sort of nonsense, do you?” “Do you have a better explanation for what’s going on?” She questioned. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do! I’ve already told you, I hit my head rather hard, and I’m concussed- that’s all!” “Are you so sure?” No. “Look, I don’t know what’s happening to me right now, all I know is I’ve suffered a head injury, and I clearly need some rest. I’m going to take the day off, go home, and get some rest, and then I will wake up to find this was all a ridiculous dream.” “Good luck!” She calls to me as I make my escape. “A hallucination, just a terrible, incredibly realistic nightmare!” I try to convince myself as I walk through my front door. I make my up the stairs to my bedroom, only to be stopped dead in my tracks for the second time today. There, on my wall, where my mirror sat perfectly fine and intact just this morning are the words ‘NO WAY HOME’ written in what appears to be black marker, and on the floor is my new mirror. Shattered.

I walked into work. It was a normal morning. I was waving to all my colleagues then walked to my desk. But I was already there. Umm... “Get out of my desk” I said. She turned around. I examine her features. Red hair,brown eyes,freckles. She even has the same brown dress on as me! I stare at her as she starts to smile an evil smile. I can sense evil. She walk towards me.

I don’t know why I don’t run. She strokes my cheek and says,”Cherri Brown, we don’t need you anymore.” “But I’m the VP of the company” I say. “No I am. My name is Vanessa Zachs, And I am the new and improved you!”

I call security but they stare right past me and at her. “Vanessa,what is it? We can’t have a problem with our VP no can we?” I want to scream! Now that’s why no one would reply to me this morning. I’m invisible. To everyone but “Ms.Zachs”

I run home but Vanessa is already there. She is watching a movie with my family.I run to the store. Vanessa is buying Corn flakes. Everywhere I go. She is there. I will never escape.