Offspring

Was a sunny day on a street I did not recognize. I'm looking across a private street to a green berm on the other side. Beyond that was a busy major thoroughfare. Heretofore unknown alternate selves came to visit. My alternate selves parked on opposite sides of the street.

On the farther side, my fatter self arrived wearing a brown and white Cuban-style Guayabera, khaki bermuda shorts, and white tennis shoes. My fatter self drives a covered-over Jeep, the kind that doesn't ever go off-roading and thus has what are for all intents and purposes, car tires. Tsk Tsk! I didn't get a good look at Fatter GhostBuild's wife, but my kid was a baby boy with a well-sculpted black-haired mohawk (a tiny one admittedly, it was not of the magnificance enjoyed by Anna Clifford).

On the closer side, my thinner self was a greaser, wearing blue jeans, plain white t-shirt, black boots, and a very tall pompadour. Standing next to his white pick-up truck, he points inside excitedly (lit cigarette in hand) to his anorexic blonde wife. She is holding a dark-haired baby in one hand, cigarette in the other hand, giving a brief nod and wave, and casually looks away, thoroughly disinterested in the proceedings of my meeting with my dream-sourced alteregos. Geez, why did my alt marry her anyway?