Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, my twin sister said. 

I zoomed in on the latecomer — anyway — and was instantly beamed back — a million years, at least — to recess — on the blacktop — where this girl — with her fingers sticking out of her pants  — chased — no, terrorized — other girls.

I’m a boy, she’d say, beating her chest like Tarzan.

Thought I’d forgotten that.

The Ikebana class started with a brief meditation and prayer.

Then I spent way too much time shuffling, scrambling, searching for the right words to say — because — I really did not know what to say.

Hey, you two!  You look exactly like you did in 5th grade — only taller.  Ha!

Pounding his chest — just like she used to — Jeannette said,  I’m Timothy now — by the way.

I pointed and gestured with my pinkie, You have a noodle in your beard.

Small world, my twin sister said.