The Montana Doppelganger

Listen. What happened in those Montana woods still makes my hands shake.

My uncle owned a cabin. Last October, I heard something circling.

Footsteps. Heavy breathing. Second night, the footsteps came back.

But this time, I heard my own voice outside. Morning came. I found tracks

in the mud. Human footprints. Barefoot. But they were backwards.

The clerk asked if I had a twin. Someone looking like me was there

earlier. My phone had texts from my own number. Three words repeated.

I am still there. I never went back. The new owners