This was no simple lookalike – this man was my antithetical doppelganger. Both of us were 7,823 days old, just over six-feet tall, and splattered with an identical yet complex pattern of freckles. Yet, He wore my body with more muscle tone, a conservative haircut, and a paler complexion.

We quite literally stumbled into each other at a crossroad. I strolled down a street known for its abundance of dive bars, and He was headed smack into fabric row. I knew immediately that this meeting wasn’t a coincidence. This man was the physical manifestation of the deficient aspects of my persona. I wouldn’t go as far as to call Him the “evil twin” – if anything, I was the bad one.

His virginal skin was my gauged ears and tattooed forearms. My brazen, vibrant get up was confronted with a dull grey suit. His plastic bottle of water and Holy Bible were juxtaposed with my cigarette and box of condoms. And by the looks of it, he wasn’t holding a .38 revolver in his pants, but rather, an uncomfortable and unfortunate erection.

We both froze there for a minute, unsure of how to proceed. Impulsively, we both moved of our hands to our face, and just like a cheesy cartoon from the American 1970s, proceeded to mirror each other’s move for a moment.

For a second there, I began to think how cool it would be to have a long-lost twin or something! All of this optimistic hope I held was at once shattered when my supposedly good twin whacked me over the head with his Bible.

“You demon! You CURSE!”

SHMACK. Perhaps He looked like a total square in my eyes, but I wasn’t about to beat Him up over our (very few) differences!

“Back to Hell with ye!”

I felt the stinging pain of a surprisingly sharp crucifix slice my chin. He swung his golden chain at me once more, but I jumped back in time to dodge it. In a split second, I sided with Him. Indeed, this world is too limited for both of us to exist. And if I’ve learned anything about doppelgangers, it’s that there can only be one. Only one, so I shot Him twice in the chest, and chuckled to myself. Bad really is the new good these days, so why not live up to my reputation while I’m still young and reckless?

          by Jay Burnham