Excerpt from 'THE GAME'

(UPDATED 24/09/2017)

The smoke from the fires of stoves and chimneys wafted skyward and mixed with the salty coastal mist to cast a haze that was thick and gray as it floated through the village. Street lamps, spaced every twenty-five meters, rained golden points of light upon the ground below, while dark spaces lay between each lamp. Beyond the edge of the dark and the shadows, shaded windows muted the glare of yellow from gaslight that formed thin lines around the edge, outlining the shape of each lit window and interrupted only by the fog that filled the streets with mystery and a foreboding dread.

It was very late or very early, depending on your personal perspective and the street and open spaces were empty. Void of human and animal, the cobbled avenue was quiet. Through the darkness and in the distance, I could hear the faint clang of a bell from an ocean buoy just off shore. It was far-off but the sound reverberated off the fog and pierced the quiet.

In my darkened rented room, I pealed back the edge of a window covering and peered down through clear streaks in the thickly fouled glass of the single window that occupied the west wall. As I parted the thin worn curtains with my right hand, and watched him. I kept to the shadows and against the stark bare wall, staying hidden to keep my observation secret. I watched as he raised the collar of his greatcoat to ward off the chill of the dark, moonless night. I felt the same chill from my hidden vantage point, but could not give up the chase - not yet anyway.

Who was chasing whom is a matter for debate since our roles were switched on several occasions. What mattered, above all else, was that I prevailed and eliminated the man who stole my life so many years ago.

When you look in a mirror, you see the reflection of yourself; but you know that reflection is you. When you look at a clone, stare at a clone, something that was created from you, with your exact looks and thoughts; well, that was different.

You could spend a lifetime scrutinizing your clone, your doppelganger, your exact DNA copy and never see yourself. It was a strange feeling and surreal to know that something existed in the world that was you, of you, but not you.

He reached into the left coat pocket and pulled out a plastic cigarette case. As he did, he scanned the street in one direction then the next before removing one of the thin black sticks and placed it between his lips.

*****

NOTE: This is an unfinished Steampunk short story that I hope to have completed soon