I thought I saw a ghost today. HWSNBN.
It happened on the train heading west. The train cleared at one stop and I sat down, thankful to have a chance to rest my tired feet. I glanced to the right, and froze in fright and shock.
He was thin and lanky, his frame just like yours. His hair looked like yours when yours grow slightly longish. His nose bridge was a little crooked, with a little bump near the top, just like yours. And his eyes, his eyes were a mirror image of yours; the lids, the brows, the shape of the eyes.
But you are not here, I thought to myself.
Instead of your signature white RL polo tee, he was clad in a black Giordano polo tee. His jeans were exactly like the dark blue CK jeans you like. And the only difference between his shoes and your adidas ones were the colour of the stripes.
This is not you, I reminded myself. He is just a ghost of you.