Fragments from books that don’t exist: Typed in the Head


Before there were any definite indications of that other most bothersome universe, Elspeth had a feeling about it. She told Mireille she’d seen things, witnessed events unfolding in two ways at once. Mireille was skeptical, naturally. She assumed Elspeth had seen identical twins when she described a man stepping off a commuter train at the 69th Street Station and heading off in both directions. Elspeth tried to convince her, but only her. She would never have dared talk of such things with anybody else. Hadn’t they already written her off as a flake, hysterical, an odd duck? Mireille at least would listen and not say any mean things like that. Elspeth was not crazy. She merely had a more pronounced case of SBD (split-brain disorder) than your average housewife and mother of four. Mireille thought, rather, that Elspeth was tired. Elspeth accepted the verdict, and appreciated the time that she got to spend with her friend. After all, she had already seen what would happen to Mireille over there, in the other place.


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