Vicky

"The dessert, I guess. Maybe the high dessert in California. Maybe Utah or Nevada. I don't know, could be a lot of places." "No, silly, this is my pla...e." "Oh." "Don't you know who I am?" I looked at her closely in the firelight. There was something distinctly familiar about her, but I couldn't place it. "No." She crossed her arms and pouted. "You don't know?" "No," I said with a shrug. "I'm you." I looked at her again. Same brown hair, if a little longer, same eyes, same... What kind of trick. It was mussed, as if he just got out of bed. Mark didn’t look up. He pushed the triangle of the last piece of toast into his mouth and rubbed the crumbs off his fingers onto his plate. He picked up a crumpled napkin and wiped his mouth. He looked up then with blue eyes that always gave her a little rush when they pierced hers. She saw he hadn’t shaved, and his sooty stubble reminded her of the sad clown pictures in the dining area, the clown with the five o’clock shadow, she thought that was. More

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