“The Sames – I” / A Memorable Fancy #088

Someone is my impostor. That must be it. My associates praised me for a speech I never gave. I was seen at a club I never joined. I arranged with my physician for an MRI, without telling him why other than some made-up symptoms of failing memory. But the results were negative (“Not that we can detect all memory issues with an MRI, but …”). But the trouble wasn’t memory; I was sure of it. My diary said I was in Atlanta when the press reported my Boston speech. That should have been easy to check. I made a few calls. Yes, I was in Atlanta. Yes, I was in Boston.

Yesterday I received a call from a physician I never heard of. “Your MRI came back clean,” he said.

Now I know: my other worries that he is me.

Which one am I?

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