Relative Something

“No offense,” she said. “I was just trying to make a point.”

It didn’t make any difference to me. I wasn’t listening. It was her eyes. I was lost in the mysterious feeling I was experiencing from the way they commanded my attention. It didn’t matter that she occasionally over-formed her mouth when she spoke certain words.

There was a person in there and I didn’t know who that person was. Something about her eyes seemed familiar.

For most of my life, I had no reason to consider the idea of reincarnation. I had no reason to consider New York, either, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. For all I know, reincarnation has been happening since the beginning of time. How is it that there are infants who demonstrate abilities beyond their years?

Sometimes I wonder if I am remembering someone from one of my previous lives. What if I went to grade school with this person? Could they have lived across the road when I was a kid? What about those three months when I lived in Detroit Lakes? Who was that woman in tech school? How many people have I interacted with during my working life?

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Oh, sorry –no offense– I was just distracted for a moment there. If you were 45 years older, I’d ask if we’d met somewhere before.”

“None taken.”

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