Two friends go mountain biking in Utah and are struck by how similar their appearances and life paths have been. One friend suggests that the other must be his "shadow" since they are so alike. However, the other argues that he has often exceeded the first in achievements. This angers the first, who shoves the second off a cliff to his death, silencing the challenge to his view of himself as the original with the other as merely a shadow copy.

1. In The Sun
by C.A. Shoultz
The bikes kicked up two clouds of dust as they came to a stop. Two pairs of feet came off the
pedals, two legs swung over two rough rubber seats. Two pair of hands were rubbed to break the
soreness of a long time gripping handlebars, and four eyes scanned the huge expanse of awesome rock
formations that stretched out all red and sandy all before them.
“God,” said a young man. “Who knew all this was in shitty Utah?”
“Uh, I did,” said another young man. “So would you, if you had actually just checked the
Wikipedia page.”
“I mean, yeah, I knew it was here,” said the first young man. “But actually seeing it...”
“I get you,” said the second young man. They walked along the sandy ground to reach the
shallow gorge. It wasn't very deep- indeed, they might have both climbed down with ease. It was mid-
morning and the sun shone brightly down. However, being morning, the heat was not oppressive, not
yet anyway. “I want to check out one of those rock towers,” said the second, pointing far beyond him.
“First we get to the top of this cliff,” said the first. “We made a promise, right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” said the second. He glanced down at the relatively close bottom of the valley.
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Our shadows look a lot alike.”
The first young man looked downward like his friend to find his observation proved astute.
Their shadows, cast along the ruddy earth, did possess a striking similarity. They were the same height,
almost exactly. Their builds were similar, strong and sturdy frames born of intramural sports. The first
young man's hair was long, but today he had tied it behind him, so their heads were exactly the same
shape. Neither of them wore a beard, so their jaws were identically smooth. So said the first young
man, “You're right.” He turned toward the second young man. “Cool.”
“Yeah,” he said, then turned. “Come on, let's keep at it.”
The first young man lingered at the edge of the small gorge. Only haltingly did he turn round
and move back toward his bicycle. His comrade, being fit to move already, took the lead, pedaling
with mighty pumps to overcome the incline of the trail.
Within an hour and a half they'd reached the summit of their journey. As the two bikes once
more skidded to stop, the first young man looked out across the monument-strewn landscape. They
were very high up now, resting, sweating on a rocky, mighty ridge. Now the sun was raging; even in
this early spring it shone angrily at him. It burned his cheeks, and beat down on his bare head when he
took off his helmet. The two of them took alike steps to reach the ridge's edge. The quietude was
punctured by the ripple of two zippers going down, and double streams of urine trickled into open air,
briny yellow arcs that glittered from the shining sun.
“Remember what you said about our shadows?” said the first young man.
“Yeah?” said the second young man.
“Well, all this time I've been thinking, and... shit, it's dumb,” he said.
“Go on.”
“Well... what if you're my shadow?” asked the first.
“I don't get it,” said the second.
“Come on, our shadows look identical,” the first said. “And we're a lot alike. We went to the
same elementary school, and the same middle school, and the same high school, and the same college.
We've been friends all that time. We like the same movies, shows, games. We had the same major in
college, and we took nearly the same classes. We even both got into the same internship program at
MS. Fuck, we're even going to be working at the same hedge fund. We've even dated some of the
same girls.”

2. “So?” said the second. “We're friends. We've always been friends.”
“Yeah, but, like, I think this is some cosmic shit, man.” The first young man zipped up his fly.
He stared into the second young man's eyes, which were the same brown shade as his. “There are
originals, and there are shadows that they cast. Copies, you know? Imitations. We're so alike, we
might as well be twins. But we're not really twins, because I'm a few months older than you. I come
first, and you're like me because you're my shadow.”
“Is this some God shit?” said the second young man.
“Nah, man,” said the first. “It's just how things are.”
“Uh, okay,” said the second, zipping up his fly. “The thing is, though, if we're gonna be like
that: who's really the copy?”
“Huh?”
The sun shone hot and hurtful down.
“You mentioned all those things that make us alike,” said the second young man. “But I've
always been a little ahead. I've gotten better grades than you from elementary school onward. The
girls we've both dated have usually dated me first. I got into the internship before you- your dad had to
write a letter to the dean, remember? And I got my job first.” He glanced upon the vast expanse of
rocky wonders. “If anyone's the shadow, it's you.”
The first young man moved faster than the second young man could react, throwing all his
strength into one tremendous shove. The second young man was entirely off guard, and so went flying
out into the open air. He screamed at first, but somewhere on the way down he collided with the cliff
face. That might have killed him instantly. At any rate, he made no further sound, until a quiet spurt
came forth when he impacted the bottom of the gorge. He was a chunky pile after such a lengthy fall, a
dark stain spreading quickly from his broken body.
The first young man glanced up into the sky. It was high noon.
END