The Echo

“History doesn’t repeat itself, it rhymes.” ~ Mark Twain

Untitled Light Painting by Ed Newman

I was seated in a red leather chair by the window, a little tired, wearing my usual face marred by time. It startled me when she walked over and seated herself across from me in the lobby there. I glanced up and noticed her staring at me, straight on, as if waiting for me to emerge from wherever I was hiding within myself. When our eyes locked I immediately became aware of two things…