"lately i've been seeing myself in the city. just a glimpse, sometimes just enough to recognize my particular stride, my hunched back. i realize, after a dozen or so of these encounters, that i'm insane. that i'm projecting. i see myself, up ahead, turning the corner. not always walking. sometimes in the passenger seat of a familiar car. i am haunting myself."
"have you ever tried talking to them? i mean, you - one of you?"
"no - that's anoher thing. i freeze up, i become ... strangely inert."
"when do you - when does this happen?"
"all the time. at random. i could be anywhere. i see myself walk by the windows at work."
"do you ever see your face? are you sure it is you?"
"no, i'm not sure. but i know. i know it's me."
"maybe you're trying to tell yourself something."
"or i'm dreaming. or i'm losing my mind."
"i don't think you're dreaming."
"so i'm losing my mind. might as well be dreaming."
"well - what's so bad about it? why does seeing yourself cause you such panic?"
"wouldn't you?"
"panic? no... well,"
"you don't know how you'd feel. i swear, it's like i'm being haunted."
"some hauntings have been described as friendly. the ... hauntees, become acclimated to the presence."
"this is different. i feel ... threatened."
"by yourself?"
"yes - no, I - "
"it seems like you're saying that when you see these - apparitions, you feel as though you could be harmed."
"it's not like i'm afraid they're going to shoot me, or stab me, or... you know. there's just this horrible, nameless..."
"go on - "
"i - don't know how."
"you're shaking. should we... move on?"
"...no."
Pause.
"how many times has this happened to you?"
"i stopped keeping track."
"...at last count?"
"7. or 8."
"for how long?"
"i kept a tally on the back of my hand. in sharpie. then someone asked, and i stopped. it's been a few months since then."
"all summer. when did you first ... see one?"
"right at the end of spring. first really warm day, but still night pretty early. i was - well, i was drunk coming home from work and i walked past myself. i know what you'll say - i know, i was drunk - but you asked. for the first one. that was it. i felt it, turned around to look, but just - saw myself, the back of me, head down & hood up, walking the way i'd just come. only when it had turned the corner, only then, i turned & went home. ran home. said to myself i was just drunk & stupid. thought i saw something, drunk enough to have convinced myself it was real ... i forgot about it for a few weeks until i saw myself again, walking by the front of my house. even ran out after it, but stopped at the last step, staring after my own image, again, vanishing around the corner."
"that's twice you mentioned seeing it outside of your apartment. have you ever seen yourself indoors?"
"once, maybe twice. at the bar. once, returning home, i thought i was already there, asleep in my own bed, but i'd only left the lamp on. the window was open, though, and i didn't remember leaving it open. maybe i left before i came in. maybe someone's playing a joke on me. how can you tell when you're hallucinating?"
"you don't... it's the nature of it."
Pause.
"have you heard the story of the appointment in Samarra?"
"no."
"it's the story of ... well, this guy sends his slave to the market for something, and when the slave comes back, he's trembling and white with fear. the man asks his slave why he's so terrified, and the slave replies that he saw Death in the marketplace, and Death made a threatening gesture at him, looked at him weird or something. the man gives his slave his best horse, and the slave tears off to Samarra, which is far, far away. then the man goes to the market, finds Death, and asks about the threatening gesture. Death replies: 'it wasn't a threat, i was surprised to see him - you see, i have an appointment with him tonight in Samarra.'"
Pause.
"seems to speak of ... inevitability. of powerlessness to Death. are you afraid to die?"
"who isn't?"
Pause.
"why did you tell me that story?"
"i don't know. i remembered it. that ... feeling you get. hearing it. that's how i feel when i see myself. dread."
"... implies a premonition of sorts, doesn't it? an omen?"
"i read all about Doppelgangers. i don't know. it's something ... else. almost doesn't feel real. like i'm the only one meant to see it. no one else does - well, they - how do you ask someone if they can see you walking down the street without coming off insane? you can't - that's how! do you know how i feel even telling you all of this? insane! that's how!"
"you're not insane. ... maybe we should move on."
"to what?"
"you're clearly experiencing a great deal of what seems to be stress - "
"... can we not use that word?"
"what word would you feel more comfortable using?"
"i just don't want to give the impression that i'm under some sort of ... pressure, that i'm ... imagining this."
"can you say for sure that you aren't?"
"well - not, not ... for sure."
"then don't discount it as a possibility so off-handedly. i'm not saying you're losing your mind, just - trying to cope with some as-yet undisclosed distress that your psyche can't handle."
"sure sounds like insanity to me."
"it isn't."
Pause.
"have you ever heard of something like this before?"
"specifically? personally - no, but that doesn't make it worse than anything i've ever seen anyone deal with before."
"maybe i need a priest. an exorcism."
"you don't think that's being ... a little dramatic?"
"i was joking."
"i see."
Pause.
"so... what else would you like to talk about?"
"i don't know."
"do you have any friends you've been able to talk to? about this?"
"no. well - i have friends, sure - but no, i haven't talked to them about this."
"what do you talk about?"
"um... books. music. movies. i don't know - stuff."
"do you like yourself?"
"which?"
"... sorry?"
"which myself?"
"well..."
"sorry. joking. again."
"oh. ...why do you think you - "
"defense mechanism."
"... let's try this again - "
"sorry."
"no need to apologize."
"i know. do it anyway."
"do you like who you are?"
"would if i knew who that was."
"are you sure?"
"that i'd like me if i knew who i was? no. guess not."
"how do you feel when you look in the mirror?"
"try not to."
"must be a hard thing to avoid. there's mirrors everywhere in our society."
"try to avoid that, too."
"...joking, again?"
"not really."
"so you tend to be a bit of a homebody, i take it. spend a lot of time by yourself?"
"yeah."
"and it sounds like you drink - how often?"
"don't know. enough."
"enough for what?"
"to knock a horse out." Pause. "sorry. kidding."
"were you?"
"well... how much would it take?"
"too much."
"hey - judge not, lest ye be..."
"why do you think it is that you drink?"
"to dispel ghosts. look - can we just ... i don't know, talk? i feel like i'm kinda being interrogated here."
"you're uncomfortable with being asked questions."
"- that was a question. you just said it like a statement."
"going to answer?"
"no."
"that's fine."
"of course it is. i'm paying. customer's always right."
"if that's how you want it."
"it is."
"we can sit in silence if you want. as you said - you're paying."
Long pause.
"we seem to have hit a wall."
"i thought i was paying for silence."
Pause.
"something tells me you're not."
"hour's almost up."
"does this feel like a good place to wrap up?"
"no."
"well, what else would you like to talk about?"
"have you ever been haunted?"
"no, i haven't."
"then we have no common ground."
"i don't think that's true."
"i'd like to request to talk to someone else."
"...it's certainly within your rights to do that."
"who here has been haunted?"
"... that's not something we keep on file."
"then trial & error. who do you think - "
"i really think this has gone far enough."
"...yes. you're right. i'm sorry."
"and i think our time's up."
"yes."
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