I stepped out of the bathroom in my gray crewneck

accompanied by blue and white striped pajama pants.

Warm steam from the boiling shower flowed around me

while shouts of laughter drifted into my right ear

with my dad being the loudest.

Curiosity pulled me to the sound pouring from the living room.

There sat my whole family,

along with a dusty photo album with gold

embossed edges flooded with a rich royal blue.

Their eyes darted over my face,

searching for the answer to what they were seeing.

The ancient bowl cut that graced my father’s head

looked a bit too much like the thick bangs 

that bombarded my face.

Freckles faxed to me showed

the strong genes of our family,

and the black hole eyes we shared 

was all the proof I needed. 

I found the answer they were looking for.

It was me from the 80’s.

I took the surprisingly clear school photo into my hands.

Then stared at it for a few minutes, eyes stuck wide open at the resemblance.

My hands grabbed my hair,

pulling it back and twisting it in my hands,

I prompted my sister to take the picture. 

There we were side by side,

the picture of my father and me.

He was the twin I never knew I had.