My Twin

It was a week before Thanksgiving when I encountered her on the public train. We were both heading toward the airport, no delays and at a decent pace. Before I focused more on her, my initial glimpse was star struck, as if I was staring into a mirror, only to see the female version of myself. She had long curly hair, evidently her hair was more lengthier than my own; leopard-stylized glasses; a book in her hands; striking beauty altogether. I sat behind, feeling a strong sense of familial connections, like a long lost blood line, blind to the family. Hence, it wasn't a romantic interest by any means. Instead, I felt like I had met my twin. No words were exchanged and no eye contact was met, merely the presence of me and her. What could have I said? Who knows anymore.
The time had arrived for me to depart, and I took one last glance at her, awaiting for the doors to open. The connection was temporary like a rare winter in the south, and I didn't know when I would see her again. My thoughts had ceased as soon as the doors had opened, leaving behind that inexplicable occurrence.
I named her My Twin, because she looked a hell of a lot like me.