Aug. 21st, 2011

Split

Aug. 21st, 2011 05:22 pm
Lewis woke up with a dry mouth and crusty eyes. He could only open his eyes a crack; the harsh sterile white walls of the quarantine room reflected all the light from the fluorescents. His feet were cold; he could see his feet sticking out of the thin cotton blanket on the cot mattress. He tried to pull more blanket loose from behind him to cover himself up, but the fabric was hung up on something. Suddenly Lewis realized that there was warmth and movement all along his back and legs.

There was somebody else in bed with him. And they were spooning.

Lewis dizzily struggled to remember how there could possibly be somebody else in the room. His only guests for the past five days had seen him though the vision glass and had talked to him through the intercom; since returning from space, he'd been on strict isolation. As his brain woke up fully, Lewis became certain that being in bed with another person was WRONG and CREEPY. He rolled off the cot and jumped up off the floor, barefoot in his thin white PJ's, breathing heavily as he stared at the bed's other occupant.

It was another man, naked, covered only with the blanket. He had dark hair and was clean-shaven. The man stirred and stretched, and then his eyes opened. It was only then that Lewis recognized the man. He had seen those eyes thousands of times before, every morning while shaving, in the mirror.

It was him. The man in the bed was him.

The Lewis in the bed blinked a few times, squinting just as Lewis had done, and his eyes focused on his twin standing nervously across the room. After a moment for his brain to engage, that Lewis's eyes shot open and he sat up on the cot, covering himself with the blanket.

"Hello?" he said.

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