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I met myself at the entrance to the building where I live. I was just
about to go inside after my afternoon walk, when someone pulled the door
open from the inside. I stepped back to make room for the person coming
out—and stared at my own self.
I recognized myself at once. Not so much by my physical appearance. It’s
possible to have a double or a twin brother you don’t know exists. They
might even look more like you than you do yourself. Here, however, the
clothes removed all doubt. A double or twin brother would not be wearing
my dark green raincoat. It was a recent purchase that I had yet to wear
because the days were warm, even though it was already autumn.
The raincoat was singular owing to the fact that its lapels were
inconsistent: one was narrow, the other wide. This insignificant flaw
was why it had been on sale. No one wanted it, even though it was first
class in every other respect. The defect didn’t bother me. It was only
noticeable if you stared really hard, and I had no reason to expect
anyone to give me the once-over.
The recognition had to be mutual, because I looked at me intently for a
moment. True, it might not have been quite like standing in front of a
mirror, but it would be odd not to recognize yourself on a recently
taken photograph, wouldn’t it? And that’s how I acted—as though a
stranger was standing in front of the door. I didn’t even nod to myself
as a sign of gratitude for standing aside to let me leave, which would
have been polite even under these unusual circumstances. I just walked
past me and headed down the street.
Bewildered, I stood there for a few moments watching myself walk away
and then headed after me. What else could I do? Certainly not go home
calmly and pretend that this was nothing out of the ordinary. If for no
other reason, I was dying to know where I was going.
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