I walked into the reading room at the public library in Venice and saw my doppelgänger. But he was dressed as a circus clown. What’s your name? I asked. He said, My name is Salvador, the Clown. You look just like me, I said. You wish, he said. No, just kidding, yah, I guess I see it, he said. What are you reading in this freezing cold study room? I asked. I’m reading the Ten Commandments, he said. No, just kidding, I’m reading Kafka and Orwell, he said. Kind of heavy material for a circus clown, isn’t it? I asked. These are claustrophobic times, he said, even for the performing arts. Want to go across the street to Tierra Mia Coffee and get an horchata latte? I asked. It will do you good to get some sunlight. No, he said, I’m working on my dissertation on existentialism in absurdist microfiction and I’m really making some progress. Thank you kindly, though. Well, it was nice meeting you, I said. Same to you, twin, he said, burying his face back into the selected works of Kafka, taking notes.