I'm happy to write a new story for this lovely community, #TheInkWell, run by @jayna, @agmoore, and @gracielaacevedo. This time the prompt is "Change"; you can check on the details here.

The prompt for this week was Change.

She looked exactly like him when he was still a girl. He had seen her in the hospital the day he was about to undergo his first surgery. He thought he saw her turned round the corner, just one street away. He began walking faster and put on his glasses. As he thought about how unlikely it was that she existed, he tried not to blink anyway, lest the brief moment of darkness in which their eyelids touched meant losing her again. He almost lost sight of her; he began to run.

He had just been given an inconclusive diagnosis; everything seemed to indicate that he was sick with some kind of cancer, but the tests showed contradictory results, and so the doctors couldn't tell how bad it was. It would be the ultimate irony of his life if he were to die, of old age or at any time, without knowing what kind of disease he had. And now that he was at a turning point again, there she was. Was God playing a macabre game, one in which he was condemned to pursue himself incessantly and unsuccessfully?

Unlike his, her footsteps were silent, light; she glided in her blue and pink strappy heels. Suddenly, he definitely doubted her existence. Was she just a ghost? Was she a product of his imagination? After all, she was dressed like Jennifer Gardner in one of his favorite movie scenes. It had to be an illusion. He looked at his cheap manly shoes, some handed down Champ sneakers that had survived the last seven years of scandal, regret and poverty; they let the water in through the holes in their soles. His socks were now soaked, and it felt real, so he knew he wasn't dreaming, at least. He ran a little faster.

The dark-haired girl appeared before him again, still one street ahead. It seemed to him that she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, but he couldn't be sure. She turned another corner. As he found it increasingly difficult not to be left hopelessly behind, his own panting deafened the few noises in the street; the drizzle had scared away passersby and cyclists, while the curfew did not allow vehicles to circulate after 6:00 p.m. The night that was already falling on the streets of the town painted the small buildings cobalt blue and made them look taller; in front of him, the asphalt galleries became a labyrinth. He advanced, ran, stopped, then ran again. He lost count of the corners he had turned as he tried to catch up with the mysterious girl.

Out of the blue, he found himself surrounded by bushes; there were lamp posts with colonial style decorations. He immediately recognized the park; it was the town center. The girl was sitting inside the gazebo where he used to hang out with his friends; the same friends that were gone now. All those who had once told him he had the right to correct what life had given him by mistake had now left him alone. He was afraid to leave then and start over, and now he felt lost and lonely, orphaned. He looked at her; she was exactly like him when he was still a girl.

“What are you doing here?” He asked her.

"I am on my way, Alexander; I have been for years. The question is what are you doing chasing me."

Alexander. It wasn't the in-between "Alex". Not anymore. The power of that name when it came out of her mouth felt pretty much like magic, like it had just become real.

The girl slowly descended the steps of the gazebo and walked over to him. At that instant, it began to rain very hard, but neither of them seemed to mind. The rain washed the makeup off her face and washed the sweat off his clothes. They hugged.

"Is it okay for me to let you go? Don't you feel lonely?" He asked, impossible to see if there were any tears washing away in the pouring rain.

"I'm fine."

The girl turned and walked away without looking back. For a second, he envied her determination, but then he remembered it was his own. It was time for a real change, finally.