#WhimWord for @whimword: BASEMENT

I met myself as I was getting into the lift last week. I also met myself as the doors opened on the sixth floor. I had meant to go down to the basement, but the lifts here are a little wonky and they had gone up to eight instead. When I heard the ping for the sixth on the way down and saw myself standing in the corridor, I got the fright of my life. And so did I.
I looked at myself in surprise. I looked at myself in amusement.
“It’s me!” I pointed at my chest rather too vigorously and bumped my finger against my chest accidentally.
“Ouch.” I said, and placed my palm over the spot. “Dude, that’s my favourite tee shirt.”
I apologised and tried to not to stare as I stood next to myself. I pressed the button for the basement again and saw my head whip round. Aha, I thought. I caught me out there.
“I already pressed the button for the basement.” I said.
I made a face and there was an uncomfortable silence. I found myself wishing there was music playing in the lift so that I could tap my toe. I did anyway.
I looked down and found that I was tapping my toe to a non existent beat. And so was I. An identical rhythm that only we could hear. I looked up. So did I.
As our eyes met, there was the ping again, and the doors dragged themselves along their tracks. I looked forward, and a second later so did I.
“Hey, it’s me again!” I pointed again, but this time I knew better and took a step back.
“Good save.” I whispered. I placed my hand over where I was sure a bruise was forming. “Nicely done.”
“Are you two coming out or what?” I said.
I looked at myself. Myself looked at I.
“This could get confusing.” I said.
“You’re not kidding.” I said.
I sighed in frustration. “Look, we are way over quota here. One of us has to get in the furnace. Let’s do rock, paper scissors.”
“Oh yes, I’m good at that.” I said. “I won last time.”
“Me too!” I said, delightedly.
“Took three hours, mind you.”
“Was it you I was playing against?”
“No, it was me.”
“What happened to the other one?”
I nodded my head at the dark corridor that led to the furnace.
“On the count of three.” I said.

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