My Doppelgänger
144 words
My telephone believes I am, or have been, more than one person. It built evidence for this theory for years, secretly, hidden in a corner of the photos application that I’d never visited. But today, just now, I found it.
My phone has created two separate files of photographs, both of which I’m in, though its facial recognition software tells me they are not the same person. It wants me to name them. Name my one self and name my other self.
I looked for some kind of clue about how my phone had come to the conclusion that I was two different people. Was one of them a sad me and the other a happier me? Was one older, younger, more rested, tired?
No, no. There was no discernible pattern to this categorization. I considered my selves, then gave them the same name.