Meeting Clone
I am Teres, she said.
I am her Clone, an identical being said.
I had heard of clones, but this was my first encounter with one.
I decided to get the clone alone, if possible.
I am a newspaper reporter, it is the kind of thing I do.
What is your name? I asked the clone. Clone, she said.
Do you like being a clone? I don’t know, she said. I will ask Teres.
Do you have any hobbies? I asked. “I don’t know,” she said. “Teres, do I have hobbies?”
“You like to draw and bicycle,” Teres answered.
“Does Clone have a name?” I asked Teres.
“Clone,” she replied.
I heard Teres say to another person, “First she’ll want a name, then my car keys.”
They both laughed.
“What do you like to eat?” I asked Clone.
“I am not sure,” Clone said.”Teres, what do I like to eat?”
Teres looked annoyed now. “Come here Clone. Stand next to me and be quiet the rest of the evening.”
Clone did what she was told.
People began steering clear of me.
They whispered, some pointed.
I had clearly fallen into a faux pas, which I often do.
I could feel their anger with me.
The next time I saw Teres Clone was no where in sight.
I wondered what had happened to Clone.
Feeling guilty, but without knowing why.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2019
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