The day turned from mundane to ridiculous as soon as I stepped in to the ground floor lift. Just as the doors were closing, in jumped a man familiar looking man, about ten years older, yet uncomfortably similar to me, who suddenly pushed out the co-worker attempting to accompany me in to the lift.

“Hey, what the …?”

Before my objection could begin, the older man stopped the lift and declared, “Listen to me!”

“What…?” I yelped, watching the old man fumble with the buttons.

“…Listen…” he added, standing to look at me.  

“…But you are me…?”

“…Listen, we don’t have much time!” he snapped, holding the button.

“…Time…?” I couldn’t believe the likeness; he really was me.

The lift stopped halfway between floors.

“Great, now you’ve fu...”

“…Don’t worry,” the older man nervously pulled his hair back, forcing me to do likewise.

“…But we’re stuck…” I protested, watching the older me straighten his greyer hair.

“…We only have a few minutes; you have to listen to this…!”

“…I have to listen…?”

“…Yes, you arrogant wanker! You have to listen!” the older man surprised me.

“OK!” I again yelped against the silence of the lift’s inaction.

“There’s not long,” the older me stuttered, clocking the CCTV in the corner.

 “Not long for what?” I pondered the older me gather his thoughts in deep breaths.

“… Listen, I need you to do two thing this Christmas so that next years’ Christmas will be the best you ever had!” the older man smiled with the conviction of the honest.

“But I don’t understand how you are me and how…”

“…Listen!” the older me shouted.

“OK…” I relented.

“… The lift will correct itself in a few seconds then rise to floor seven,” the older me rested a slender looking arm on mine as much to calm himself as me.

“Yeah,” I sighed, but was exited, scared and trying to take in the urgency in the eyes of this older version of me.

“Stand still, look forward and listen, every second matters and you must remember it!”

“Sure,” I nodded my head, wondering if it was a joke, or a dream.

“This Christmas,” the older me began, watching the lift awaken on the screen and start he climb upwards.

“Yeah?” I eagerly asked, watching the same screen go from floor one to floor two.

“Listen, we don’t have long,” the older man shook his intense gaze at me, “you must do two things by December 31^st to ensure the Christmas next year will be the best Christmas…”

“…Yes, but why…?” I impatiently noticed we were going past floor five and the older me had already hooked me with this line.

“If I told you that,” the older me shook his head, “it’d risk everything, many variables that can’t be disrupted by my arrival…”

“…Floor seven, doors opening,” the lift intruded and the doors obliged to reveal an older woman waiting impatiently.

“Finally,” a familiarly miserable co-worker groaned as the doors opened.  

“Just do two things by December 31^st!” the older version of me cried, shuffling politely aside for the co-worker.

“Yeah?” I grinned, watching him leave.

“Give up vaping and get back in the gym, simple,” he grinned, “can you do that?” he beckoned as the doors closed.

“Strange little man, he looks like you,” the co-worker surmised.

“Yeah,” I agreed just before remembering I’d forgotten my writing pad down stairs.