One and not the same.

It has been a long time since I won anything, much less something like this – a collectible figure of my choice. Staring at the available prizes on display, I thought hard about the best one to get. The free ones weren’t all that good (read: big), being kinda small and unappealing. How about those bigger, detailed and sweet looking figurines instead? Kamen Rider Stronger looked really cool. Optimus Prime in black, a little ridiculous because he had a small torso with massive arms and legs, and I wasn’t about to get a Decepticon. (Although Devastator was one of the better looking bots.)

“Can I get that one if I pay extra?”

“Which one would you like instead?”

The young lady smiled prettily, and stepped a little closer to see which figure I was after. Feeling her warmth by my side, looking at us in the reflection, I was reminded of her. The same quality, the same air, they could almost be twins. Yet, not quite the same. It was as if I’d stepped off a time machine and returned to the past, to a youthful, innocent her.

“Yes, that one is no problem if you top up $140 extra.”

Really? Wasn’t a real bargain, but I didn’t mind.

The scene changed, time passed. She was now holding on to my arm, and we were going somewhere. I wasn’t sure where; not that I cared either.

I caught a glimpse of her handwriting on the notebook. The one and same handwriting, even. If this wasn’t time travel, it would be cloning. Or perhaps, an alternate timeline. Would I be happier here? I chose to ignore the lingering mental question.

One catches one’s moments of happiness wherever it happens, questioning an impossibility is but a waste of time.



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