The Dreamer

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Suddenly, without warning, I am sitting on a wooden bench under the shade of a sagging tree. I knew this place, from many years before.
Another girl sat beside me, facing away from me and watching the cars and the trees, thuroughly enjoying the view. Her sleek brown hair was exactly the same shade as mine, pulled back away from her face. I felt an awkward feeling radiating off of both of us, neither of us wishing to speak or be noticed by the other. The silence made me uneasy.
"Remember when we lived here?" She said suddenly. I looked around, but there was no one else in sight.
"I'm sorry?"
The girl turned and looked me straight in the eye. Her hair, her skin, her eyes too familliar. She was me!
There was another awkward silence as she let me get the full view of her face. It was angled and ageless, lacking most of my sagging and wrinkles. She was me when I lived in Paris.
"You know why I ran!" I snapped. Of course I knew, so she should.
The Marina next to me looks displeased. More silence.
"You can't keep running from this... from me." She said finally. "I'm not your only past getting restless inside you. You know it as well as I. So, I'm here with a request: come back to Paris, or get ready."
The park evaporates back into the mirror and I am once again staring at my reflection. She winks, waves and falls still. My refection is once again only my mirror.

Created: Aug 16, 2012

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