by Tannis Mill

Miriam set crescent rolls on the table, then disappeared into the kitchen. Marcus buttered one and called after her.

“I saw him again today. In the lobby of my office building.”

A pot clanked.

“That’s four times this week.”

Miriam entered with two plates of spaghetti.

“It’s just bizarre, Mir! He’s a dead ringer for me, could be my twin. Maybe tomorrow I’ll—”

The front door slammed, and Marcus breezed in. “Sorry, hon, meeting from Hell.”

Marcus watched himself kiss his wife and sit down to dinner. In his head, a soft voice intoned, “Upgrade complete,” and Marcus went dark.

Tannis Mill