Flash Fiction Friday: My Other Self

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I was surprised, at first, when, while walking down the street the other day, I met me.  ”Wow,” I said.  ”You’re looking pretty good.  Are those new glasses?”

“New to you, or should I say, new to me,” I replied.  ”As is the haircut– yours is still so long.  Still, I suppose I do look about the same, which is good, considering I haven’t travelled very far to get here.”

“Oh?  How are things where you’re from?  Or should I say, how are things where I’m headed?”

“They’ve been better,” I replied.  ”You’ve gotten into some trouble, is all.  The deal fell apart, so you made some ethically questionable decisions. Thankfully, you found the device, so here I am.”  From somewhere in my jacket, I pulled a gun on me.  ”Now turn around.”

“You wouldn’t!”  I said, turning away from me.  ”If you kill me, you won’t have a chance!”

“Who said anything about killing?”  I asked, and I felt an explosion of pain behind my left ear, and then blackness.

——-

“Don’t worry,” I said, checking my bonds and leaning over me.  I had bound myself into a chair in a dark room somewhere.  ”Everything will be fine, soon.  I plan to replace me.”  I’d switched our glasses.  ”Since I know what I’d done, I know what I have to do. Now I can make the right decisions, and I won’t have to come back and kidnap me.  Hopefully, sometime soon, you’ll just fade away.”  With a wave, I left myself in the dark.

——-

A minute later, my other other self walked through the door and untied me.  ”I’m about to make a huge mistake,” I said.  ”The continuum can’t handle the strain.  Let’s go stop me.” I didn’t recognize his glasses, but I went with me anyhow.