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I sometimes think about my mother and ask myself, “Who is this person?” I

know all too well what she looks like, but as far as who she is inside, I haven’t

the foggiest idea. Sometimes I look at my significant other and ask myself,

“Does this person really exist?” I can touch and talk to this soulmate of mine,

but for all I know this person so special to me is actually a ghost. Which reminds

me of something that happened last year when I was riding in my soulmate’s

car on the expressway. We’d been arguing since the day before and were

engaged in a fierce battle of words. Being yelled at in such a loud voice, I got

really annoyed and turned to look at the car in the lane next to ours. I saw

myself in the driver’s seat. More than thinking I was going crazy, I told myself,

“Well, such things can happen.”

I felt like opening the window and saying something, but I stopped.

The fact that another me exists maybe shows that I wasn’t wrong in harboring

doubts about my mother or significant other. I felt like showing off how smart I

was and smiled a self-satisfied smile—and then my soulmate yelled at me


Taisuke Nakano

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