I Saw My Clone Today (and he was with some incredible babe) by Tony Rauch I saw myself at the market today. It was as if I were looking in the mirror. I just stood there, stunned. I mean he (or I) was standing further away, looking over some tomatoes. He didn't see me. I ducked behind a shelf to peek from a safe distance. And sure enough it was me, another me. I saw my clone at the market. He was looking at some bright red tomatoes. But I don't like tomatoes, a voice in my head shouted in confusion. He examined each juicy ripe tomato, dropping them one by one into a small paper bag. Then he looked up, ahead of him and continued on. A woman sauntered up and put her arm around him, rested her head on his shoulder. She was an incredible babe! I ran to catch up, but there were so many people in the way, the market so crowded on a leisurely Saturday morning. I tried to catch up, but lost them in the crowd. Where were they going? How did he (did I) get such a magnificent babe? What are they going to do now? Are they going back to my place? What are they going to do today? Are they going to kiss? Hold hands? Aw, shucks, I bet they do that stuff all the time. Lucky him. Wait for me! Wait for me! I dart my head, desperately searching, but they are gone, lost in the thick, churning crowd. All day long, for the rest of the day I am distracted. I don't get a thing done. I just keep thinking - how could someone be so lucky, to have such a nice girlfriend? When will that be me? When? I pace all around my apartment. The guy was me. That was me, as if stepping out from behind the curtain of another life, another possibility. I just keep thinking of this, getting so upset that I finally have to hop on my bike and head back to the market. Maybe someone will recognize me as him and I can find out who he is and where he lives. Maybe they live near there. Maybe I can find them out there, run into them on the sidewalk. Maybe I can ask him how he did it, how he attracted such a nice girl to him. I pedal and pedal, but other people on the street seem to be pedaling faster than me, passing me with ease. I pedal and pedal, pumping as fast as I can, hoping that maybe I can catch up to him.