I just crossed the street

I just crossed the street with an older version of myself. She was about 55, big and strong-looking (think “sturdy Irishwoman”), she was shaped almost exactly as I am, and stood in the same manner. She wore clothes that even I would tolerate–just a shirt, slacks, and loafers–and had her hair short. Her face even had similar features. It was rather neat, seeing my doppleganger. She looked a little cross. I swear I am not cross today. Nope, nope, nope. Not yet, anyway.

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