sit in the smoking section as the sun makes its daily appearance

She dips her french toast in syrup, I stir my hash-browns with the eggs.

“Do you ever see double?” She takes a bite then rests the fork on her plate.

“Like when people are drunk in movies?” I drink some coffee.

“More subtle. I’ll be walking down the street and see a ‘Stop’ sign. Then I’ll look down and keep walking. I’ll look again, and it’s still there.”

“They’re not supposed to disappear you know.” I light a cigarette from the pack on the table. These are hers.

“Shut up.” She steals the cigarette from my fingers and takes a drag. There’s Tom Waits playing on the jukebox; I didn’t pick it but it seems to fit. “It’s the same distance away. Like if the couple of steps I just took never happened.”

“Like instant Deja Vu?” I take the cigarette back. My hand touches hers for a second. I inhale.

“Exactly. You know what I mean?”

“Yep. Never happened to me though.”

“Strange. Maybe I’m going crazy.” Her eyes widen, and for a second she looks mad. “Would you leave if I was crazy?” Her hands grab mine, the cigarette almost burning her finger.

“Don’t be silly.” I put the cigarette out.

“Good.” She reaches for the pack.

“I’d probably just leave the door open during one of your attacks. Let you leave on your own.” I say.

“Bastard. Not that it matters,” she exhales the smoke. “I would just come back.”

“Like you were never gone?”