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By the river I met my future self
No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man. — Heraclitus (6th Century B.C.)
Walking along the Aare river
I stop to see the water flow
And think of Heraclitus’ dictum
Ahead of me I spot a woman
Wait, is that me?
Same stride, same demeanour
The hair now entirely white
Something new, a minor limp in the hip
How did that happen? I wonder
Better take the calcium pills, I make a mental note
I run after her, or shall I say, I run after me?
She slowly turns her head, the veins in her temple have grown thicker
Our eyes lock
First the surprise
Are you a memory? She seems to ask
Can this be? The same I, two different times?
And then, the mutual recognition
We embrace, she and I are one
A familiar scent envelopes us, Magie noire de Lancôme
She notices my deep inhale
