Do you share your food easily? With whom, and why?

I stared at my toothbrush. Then dropped it in the garbage can. I grabbed a new one. I was not like Tracy at all however, Tracy and I are close. We are so much alike in our ways that mom said we were twins born apart and attached by the soul. So to Tracy, she loved that, and doing things like that with her brother didn’t bother her a bit.

I yelled after her, “THERE’S NEW BRUSHES IN THE CUPBOARD TRACY!”

To put a face to my story, Tracy from her college yearbook.

Do you think there will ever be a movie that features a line such as “You graduated at the top of your class in liberal arts, we need your help”?

Once I was chewing gum. Tracy, then seventeen looked at me.

I don’t. Do not touch the food on my plate, do not take a sip out of my glass, do not sip out of my straw, do not put something off your plate onto mine.

“Out of my mouth?” I asked.

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“Give me half of yours,” she said.

“Don’t have anymore,” I told her. She gave me the sad face.

“Yeah, out of your mouth. Where else?”

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My older sister Tracy was the opposite. Her twin Lori was more like me, don’t touch my food.

“What?” she said. “Dad always told us we were made of the same stuff.”

“WHAT? Are you kidding?” I said to her surprised.

Quidem dolorum id soluta eius id maxime quas.

I’ve always been like that.

“I couldn’t find mine so I used yours RJ,” she told me. I looked at it. She left the bathroom.