the other night i met a guy named Jules. he was a helicopter pilot in the Territorial Army in North Ireland. shot down by the IRA. the crew of SAS with him, all killed. "they set the dogs on me," he whispers. "i talked."

he holds no grudge now but he won't go back to the UK. lives in Thailand, divorced, a kid on the way.
"i think it's a boy." he laughs and buys us a round.

i notice his elephant tattoo. we discuss religion. he's buddhist/moslem/christian/hindu. i tell him about being jewish and he wants to know more. we talk about where we are, where we could go.

and then we discover it.

we were born on the exact same day, same year. it's so strange to see him and feel what? my doppelganger? my brother? an out of focus reflection? we hug. i could have been him and he could have been me.