1558. Separated twins

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Nerissa and Jessica were twins. Their mother had died when they were almost three years old. They were separated and had lost touch. Both treasured a photograph of their mother. In fact, for both of them, the image of their mother in the photo had supplanted any vague memory they might have had of her. Their sole physical memory of their mother was “stolen” from the photo. Both remembered having a twin but had no image in the head to go with it.

In her mid-twenties Nerissa decided to track down Jessica. It was an easy thing to do because both had kept their names. They discovered that they lived on opposite sides of the country. Eventually a meeting was arranged!

They met in the middle. The wait was nerve-wracking. And there they both were! It was as if they had never been apart. They were as identical as twins could be, despite been reared in different environments. They had the same sense of humour and the same dress sense and the same hair style. And even though they both spoke in different accents, they both had the same interests and talked about the same things. You couldn’t have shut them up if you tried!

Jessica had brought the photograph of her mother. So had Nerissa!

It wasn’t the same photo. Both photographs were of a different woman altogether.

22 thoughts on “1558. Separated twins”

  4. umashankar

    That is a very clever last sentence. It is important to note there is only one woman in the two photos, albeit entirely different. It is an ace stroke by the Master of Intrigue.

    When Lilian ran over Ginny while backing the car down the narrow lane from her home, she knew she had to run. It was no mystery to the neighborhood as to who was the worst driver around. She picked up the wailing toddlers, who were witnesses to the accident, and tucked them in the back seat more out of fear than compassion –one never knew what the kids might blabber. She stopped at a convenience stored at Creston to grab some sandwiches and cans of Coke, and a box of cookies for the twins. Her childhood sweetheart was only four hours drive across the United States border from there.

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    1. Bruce Goodman Post author

      That is a most satisfying conclusion to the mystery presented. Although I was hoping for a novel, the two paragraphs should serve to show that you yourself are the Master of Intrigue – albeit at present in heavy disguise.

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  5. observationblogger

    Intriguing post as always Bruce. On the topic of identical twins reuniting I highly recommend the documentary ‘Three Identical Strangers’ released last year. I forewarn you, the less you know of this true story coming into it the better!

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  6. noelleg44

    Mmm, trying to figure out how this might work out, genetically speaking. I’d go with IVF – same eggs from one woman, two different women to carry them. Always thinking scientifically….takes the fun out of it, yes?

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  7. Nitin

    How do you come up with these simple twists at the end that don’t disappoint time and again? I suck at plot lines. Which is probably why I’m working on a novel for the last seven years and I’m still stuck at the first sentence! Sometimes I wonder what a Bruce story written in Kerouac’s spontaneous prose would be like. Try it sometime. I’d love to read it.

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    1. Bruce Goodman Post author

      I shall have to read Kerouac first! I suspect you would hate my novel – some people love it and others pretend that they think it’s “alright”.

      Putting a twist at the end I find habitually simple!… I write the story (usually it doesn’t have much of a plot) and at the end think up a twist. It’s not a twist if you start out with a twist – and so often if it makes me giggle I know it is right!

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      1. Nitin

        Kerouac is somewhat mad. He uses long poetic sentences that go all over the place, but strangely stay connected to the plot. I should read your novel. I think I’ll do it this month. I’ll give you my honest opinion. I think you write better than most story writers alive today, and so, I doubt I’d dislike it. Yeah giggling is one sure way of entertaining yourself and others. I too giggle when I pen down dark humor. I then know it’s funny. And if it’s not, well, dear reader, endure! The twist part doesn’t come naturally to me. I write stories without plot that end in an anti-climatic way. I leave the interpretation to the semioticians!

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        1. Bruce Goodman Post author

          If your stories rely on semioticians then I’m a fan of semiotics! I think your stories are a bit like Chekov (and Katherine Mansfield for that matter) although the style/flavour is quite different. Think of a rose – there’s this petal and this petal and this petal. Then once they’ve/you’ve finished unravelling you see the whole picture. The story doesn’t so much act lineally as act in a series of plonks!
          I would like it even if you found my novel horrid. People say that all the characters are really confusing at the start, and after I say who gives a f*** they seem not to mind, and everyone gets to know the characters pretty well. Regarding giggling… sometimes (because your writing can get kind of black at times!) I feel guilty about laughing a bit – but I laugh always for one of two reasons: either it’s funny or it’s good.

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          1. Nitin

            I’m glad you giggle Bruce. And thank you for the nice comment. A story never comes to me linearly. It’s usually an idea that I clutch onto before wringing it dry. I then make my plot revolve around it. I shall commence reading your novel now that I’m back from the mountains. I’m back to the same old city and the same old boring life lol

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