Just a Couple of Days by Tony Vigorito Page A

say for certain which.
    Regardless, the other had the answer, and spoke it with flagon of wine raised. “We’re the same person!
L’Chayim!
To life!”
    And we drank.
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    15 In fact, I felt compelled to point out that night, humans are not the same person, although we are very close. identical twins aside, any two people differ in about one DNA letter per thousand. it may not sound like much, but humans have over three billion DNA letters. This means there are three million places on the DNA double helix that differ from person to person. Additionally, new variation is constantly being introduced in the form of mutations, making our genetic structure a realm of infinite possibility. Thus, although we are variations on the
same motif, any given individual is different from everyone else who has ever lived or will ever live.
    â€œWe’re like snowflakes,” Sophia chimed. “Each of us is unique, but it’s still pretty hard to tell us apart.”
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    16 There was great excitement later that evening as Sophia and Blip were serving some of their freshly baked bread, topped with cold-pressed extra-virgin olive oil. I asked for mine to be toasted, and Sophia obliged me by cutting the large slice diagonally and placing each half in its own slot in the toaster.
    â€œFantastic!” Blip commented upon seeing her do this. “How did you come up with that?”
    â€œI saw you do it this morning,” Sophia replied, somewhat confused.
    Blip was dumbfounded. “You must have seen the toast cut diagonally
after
it came out of the toaster!” Blip turned to those assembled around the kitchen island and explained, his foot tapping away. “See, our homemade loaves come out taller than the grocery store bread the toaster is designed for. If we want to toast a slice of homemade bread, the top of it sticks out and doesn’t get toasted. But here, the solution is so simple. Cutting each slice of bread diagonally before putting it in the toaster results in a more perfect toasting, because only the narrow corner of the slice sticks out the top. An elegant solution, to be sure, but not mine. What my lover saw this morning was the toast cut in half, but she incorrectly assumed that it had been cut in half
before
it went into the toaster, which it wasn’t. Had she looked more closely, she might have noticed that it was not evenly toasted. But she didn’t do this, leading her to ‘imitate’ me.”
    â€œOnly it wasn’t imitation at all.” Sophia enthusiastically picked up on where Blip was headed and joined him in tapping. “I was still sleepy, and my incorrect assessment of reality revealed a solution, which I myself did not come up with. I thought I was only copying.”
    â€œRight.” Blip nodded and turned to his guests. “Now, my question to you is,” he gravely pointed his wooden spoon at each of us, “where did that idea come from?”
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    17 Later, while drying the dishes with Blip, my unhandy hands flung a plate to the floor with a crash. I began to apologize but Blip instantly grabbed another plate off the counter and tossed it into the air, managing to say “No worries!” before it shattered on the tiles as well. “See,” said Blip, holding two more plates before me. “None of our plates match anyway. Sophia’s parents got us a complete twelve-place dinner setting, but we sold it back and hunted through thrift stores, yard sales, and antique shops for single pieces, most of which cost around twenty-five cents. Now we have a couple dozen beautiful dishes, and as many bowls and goblets. And we still treasure hunt, so the variety is in constant flux.” He kicked a shard that was in front of him. “I like to think that we rescue random molds of mass-produced suburban uniformity and turn them into a motley hodgepodge of proud and individual works of art.”
    â€œBut you just threw one on the