As the ripples close in, I remember that StarTrek - Voyager episode where the ship gets exposed to some distortion in the space-time continuum and, after frantic attempts to get out of that, Janeway hallucinates the message, "Do nothing." There isn't much that I could do anyway. It's everywhere around me. And the pen in my hand may or may not be mightier than the sword, but it doesn't seem to have much power over ripples in the fabric of the universe. I take a deep breath, and find peace for a moment.
When I can see clearly again, she is standing right in front of me. That makes no sense. Why would that phenomenon duplicate me, but nothing else? What, to the laws of nature and the powers that govern them, is the difference between me and that lone chair over there? I could use another chair much better than another me. It's hard enough to drag this one through life.
Whose apartment is this now? Will we have to sit in shifts, because I have only one chair? My chair. "I'll take the couch", I say. She nods. She understands. It's a good couch. Nice and large and comfortable. I'm upset anyway. When someone offers you the bed, you're supposed to insist on the couch.
I turn to go and make coffee. She's not going to like that. It's her kitchen. You don't just make coffee in someone else's kitchen without asking. You don't just do things with my stuff. This is my home. This is where I am in control.
She smiles. She understands. The tension releases in laughter. "We'll get this worked out.", she says. I nod. "I like your personality."