Friday, April 01, 2005

This Was Before

I thought much about reincarnation.

In 1985 or so, a newspaper sent me down to the Philadelphia Zoo to cover some puff piece news conference -- the birth of an elephant or something. In the room among the other media, I instantly recognized a woman about my age. She had short, straight blond hair and a plain but intelligent face. She wore black, which was how I remembered her. I knew her from somewhere.

She knew me, too. She and I locked eyes and nodded. After the press conference spiel, I went up to her, but she said it first, "I know you from somewhere." I could almost picture it. She was not someone I had known well, but we had been in the same place for some time, and I had seen her often, in the company of her companions. Like someone who lives in the same dorm as you or works in the same office.

And we sat down and went over every place we had ever lived or worked or visited, and there was no overlap; none at all. We weren't even in the same places at different times. Nothing. We parted without ever finding the connection. I've not seen her since.