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The Encounter
When the black cloth fell from my eyes, the small room seemed almost pixelated as I strained to focus my vision. A table was decked out with antiques, the windows covered with heavy flowing curtains, and the walls decorated with the shadowy flickers from kerosene lamps. I sat down in a chair as its cushion collapsed uncomfortably down to the wood frame. Within a blink of an eye, an old woman appeared suddenly in the seat before me. Her skin was wrinkled like old leather, eyes alert, and white gray, wispy, and thin hair peeked from beneath a black scarf. She spoke with a raspy voice, “Hello, my past self.”
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