Ess was a friend of mine. Well, to be honest, more than a friend, but let's leave that for later. I used to see her pretty much every day near where I lived, because the train station she got off at is quite close to my house, and I'd be leaving early in the morning to go to work, and walk right past her as she walked in the opposite direction. First time I noticed her, I had to do a double take - and this was really embarrassing. You see, it's that bit in the morning where loads are people are going about their way, on their way to or from work, and so it was amidst a throng of people that I found myself sopping and staring, all the while the multitude of people looked sideways at me, probably thinking me some sort of creep. But I had seen that face before, though I couldn't pinpoint exactly where. So I kept on seeing her, and the more I saw her, the more familiar her face was becoming to me. And sometimes, sometimes I could swear that she was looking at me as well, though I did not dare presume with what intent. So it came to pass that one Saturday morning I had to go to work, and as I'm leaving my house, I see her coming up the road. Again, I'm frozen on the spot, unable to move, incapable of verbalizing a single word. But as she passes, I say, 'Excuse me, Miss?', and she stops and looks at me. I can see she's uneasy at first, but then when I start to speak she relaxes. 'Sorry to bother you. Only... do I know you from somewhere? Like, did we go to school together when we were kids, or did we work at the same place, or something like that?', and she says she doesn't know, but that my face was familiar to her as well. So we list what schools we went to - we didn't even go to schools in the same city. The places we've worked at are nowhere near close to each other. So where do we know each other from? I feel this is going nowhere, and so I take my leave, thank her for her time and apologize again for bothering her, then go on my way to work. As I walk away, I look behind and see her briefly look behind at me as well.
That day at work things don't go well. I can't concentrate, I can't focus. All I do - all I can do is think of her face. I have to know her from somewhere. I must. But try as I might to figure out where, I'm drawing a blank. By the end of my shift, I'm feeling more exhausted then I should be, especially when you consider I wasn't very productive at all. I still have the rest of Saturday free, so after I get home I decide to go do some shopping. Before I leave, I check what I need - and it turns out I need everything. I didn't have anything to eat at all, the fridge was empty, and only a couple of old, mouldy carrots remained in a container by the kitchen door. I put on something a little bit more casual, and leave the building. And as I'm leaving, who do I bump into? That girl. I expect her just to carry on, maybe give me a little nod of recognition with her head, but she stops suddenly in front of me. She takes a deep breath, and after she noisily exhales, she says, 'Ok, two things : one, you do look very familiar to me and I for the life of me can't figure out where I know you from. I knew it since the first time we saw each other. And two, I was drumming up the courage to talk to you one of these days, but I'm glad you went first.' So I say to her, 'Oh man, you don't know how relieved I am to hear that. I didn't want to come across as a weirdo, but I just couldn't shake it off. I still can't - I spent the entire day thinking about you. Well, I mean, not about you as such, but about your face.' This isn't going well. 'What I mean to say is that I've been thinking all day about where we could know each other from, and now that I've heard your voice, even it sounds familiar, you know?', and she says she does, she does indeed - her day was pretty much the same. And after that, off we go, each of us on our own way. I do my shopping, I go back home, get something to eat, watch some TV, and then fall asleep on the couch. I wake up around three a.m. feeling sore and I amble back to bed. I was having such a crazy dream. I'm still half-asleep as I land on the bed, and I'm still having that dream. I know I've had it before. There's someone there I don't recognize, but then when I see her face, I know at once that's where I've known her from : I've been dreaming about her for a long time.
Next time I see her, which was not on the following monday as I'd hoped, but rather only a few days later, we're walking past each other again, her upstream, and me downstream. In the middle of the countless passers-by, we both stopped, while schools of salmon disguised as people swam past us. I ask her if she could spare some minutes, she looks at her watch, and says yes. We move to a quieter part, and the I tell her, 'I figured it out! I know where I know you from!', and then, even before she said anything, realizing that what I'm about to say will sound absolutely batshit crazy, I start to squint my eyes, already half-regretting my excited outburst. She breaks the silence by saying, 'Well? Are you going to tell me?', and I'm screwed, because when I tell her that I know her from my dreams, she's going to evaporate. 'I..', I mutter. I'm feeling nervous. My palms are now clammy, my knees are jelly. 'I dreamt of you last night. It's a dream I've had many times before. That's where I know you from. But I guess that might not be the case for you.', and now it's her who's squinting her eyes, head slightly tilted to the side. 'This dream of yours', says she, 'does my mother appear in it?', and my eyes go wide, and my mouth hangs open. 'Holy shit!', I say, maybe too loudly because I feel the eyes of the people who walk past us fixate on me. Undeterred, I continue, 'She does, she totally does!', and she stands with her hands folded across her belly, tapping her feet slightly impatiently. 'Motherfucker.', she says. 'You'll have to tell me all about that dream.' She opens her bag, removes a notebook and a pen from it, and jots something down. 'This', she tells me as she hands me the piece of paper she'd just ripped, 'is my number and my address. Are you free tomorrow night?', she asks. I'm still holding that piece of paper, clutching on to it for dear life, transfixed by what's happening. 'I... yes? I'm free?', I ask, more than say. Then I ask her, 'Am I going to be meeting your mother?', and she laughs heartily at that. 'No, no. My mother passed away when I was very young. But just so you know, you'll be maybe meeting some of my flatmates, ok? And if we end up having sex, please promise me that you won't make any noise.', she says. 'What', I say. 'Huh?', and I can only manage monosyllabic grunts. She says, 'I mean it, no noises, please.', and I tell her I'm not known for being particularly noisy. Quite the opposite. 'Good', she says, then call me, or text me, and we'll talk better. Then she gives me a kiss on my cheek, and away she goes, mingling with the salmon. God damn, I don't even know her name yet.
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