Well, almost like him. That was,to say, his younger self. He hadn't developed the scars of a misspent teenage adolescence or a flushed beard that bristled on his chin, but here he was. An almost perfect clone of himself, right in front of him. Dressed in a polo shirt and brown slacks as his mirror image poked at a pancake absent-mindlessly, staring outside.
He was in the middle of sipping his coffee before his younger self murmured towards him so quietly that it could have been mistaken for the buzz of a gnat.
" So, the future?"
Ah, the big one. It wasn't a matter of how, it was a matter of when. Of course, he would have asked the same question, given that he was in the same situation. He stabbed a wad of greasy bacon, before shoving in his mouth, chewing it, swallowing for what seemed like an agonizingly long moment. He then spoke.
" You already know the answer to that one, man."
His younger self signed before palming his left hand on his forehead in a visible effort not to break out into frustration, lest, he disturbed the patrons of the restaurant. He then stared calmly, before choosing his next words with care.
" I'll skip the badgering of that avenue, then."
He nodded before replying back.
" A wise decision."
The heat of the morning beated audibly, thumping inside his ear as the sunlight shone through the window, illuminating the interiors of the breakfast diner. His younger self then stood up, calm, but with a certain anger underneath his movements. Impatience. Need of answers. That was too be expected.
" Look, thanks for putting all this effort into dangling a carrot in front of me, but I do have to go right no-"
A fast movement, blur to his eye. Gripping his arm. The two, young and old, stared at each other. The younger one relented before tapping his wrist-watch.
" Five minutes. Say what you have to say. Then, get the fuck out of here wherever you came from."
The older flinched as if it was a punch to the gut before breathing in and then, clasping his hands together.
" You, or should I say, me....."
The younger of the two glared pointedly, eyeing towards his watch. The adult raised his hands upwards before letting out a breath of exhalation.
" You're going to make a lot of mistakes."
The younger of the two crouched deeper into the couch, as if startled by the answer, before muttering bitterly.
" And I guess it's all ' my fault ' for being stupid. Am I right?"
Surprisingly, the older shook his head.
" No. I'm not going to say it's going to all work out in the end. I'm not going to say that it'll be Hell and damnation for you. But, whatever it is, we'll have to deal with it. Understand?"
They stood sat there, before the teenager, apparently relieved by his elder's statement, stood up and began to walk out of the diner, hands in pocket, before pausing by the shoulder of his mirror image.
" I'll try to."
Then, the door flung open, chimes dingling ominously in the air of the windy day. For that was all that could be said. And all that could be stated.
