20. My Clone

He takes after me, his mother tells me. I would protest, shouting—'how in the world could I be as lazy as that boy?', if I didn't know already.

Thing is, I know perfectly well that his lazy bum-ness just nearly exceeds my own. He is coming of age.

There is no difference in us. We wield the same expression—no expression at all. He would lie on the roof, just as I would on the hammock. Our same drooping eyes both gaze at the clouds for hours at a time. Nothing is different.

But today—today is different. He sports a different expression than mine. Yes, an actual expression today.

I notice how different he is from me with this new expression. His eyes are wide open. His mouth line is curved upwards. My, a smile?

I notice his mouth is moving. He is…humming? He is humming today.

I forget my clouds as I watch the alien laying on my roof. I want to know. Where had they taken my clone? Where did my mirror go? What was this stranger doing in the place of my shadow?

I see with a defined horror that he is laughing. Chuckling. He is giggling today.

Where has my boy gone?

And then it hit me. I was not new to this expression.

I had smiled the same goofy smile the day I confessed to his mother.

Okay, forget the question. I'll just end it without another plan. And, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!