The Familiar Stranger Novels & Stories

Pushing his way across the threshold, the mysterious stranger steps forward, excusing himself as he pushes past me. `"Hey!" I call after him not sure if I should let him enter without knowing who he is. Even though he seems familiar for some reason, I don't know if I can trust him. "Wait! Who are you?" He doesn't reply and I watch, agast, as this strange young man begins flipping cushions and clearing off countertops, growing more and more agitated with each movement until his face is beet red and he starts swearing under his breath about running late. If he keeps up at this rate, he's going to wreck my friend's apartment. “I’m sorry, but Hazel isn’t here and…”

My brows drew together. Why does he feel… familiar? And why would a stranger pay for me… and why did it feel like he wasn’t a stranger at all?

It’s an awkward thing on me being worried too much to a woman whom I never met and known. “What the hell I’m doing. It’s an awkward thing on me being worried too much to a woman whom I never met and known in my life. Damn! Why would I waste my time helping a totally stranger woman.” He whispered and he stood up and was about to leave when a doctor came out from the room where the woman they helped was. “ Mr. Richard the woman you brought here is stabled now and out of danger. She is still unconscious due to the trauma she had been in her head. But don’t you worry I assure you that she will regain her consciousness within twenty four hours.” the doctor said.

“I like to find out if there are any serial killers in the areas I visit.” “Okay, neither of us was alive at that time, and I thought you didn't like to travel.” He poked holes in his stories. “A. He could still be alive and killing as I texted. B. This is the first time I am doing this and I hit the jackpot. I mean Clown face? He is a legend.” His eyes glazed over. “That’s so worrying that you're touting this kid killer as a legend. You know that you're a total stranger to me, right?”

“I know something is off. That’s not Laurel upstairs. Her mannerisms are all wrong. Her habits. Her eyes. The handwriting style on Morel's school note last week did not resemble Laurel's handwriting. I squeezed the stair railing harder while my blood turned to ice. Dr. Shawty urged me to lower my voice while scanning the area quickly. You may be correct but you shouldn’t accuse people like that. It’s more complicated than you think.” My legs trembled. He was going to tell her. He was about to expose me! “Complicated?” Lillian scoffed. “My son’s been living with a stranger! My grandson addresses a woman as ‘Mommy’ whom he just met and who remains unaware of his bedtime schedule. I couldn’t li

"You don't need to force yourself to tell me anything." "I made a really big mistake last night." Slowly, with her friend's empathy, she mustered the courage to confess what she did. It was indeed a mistake, but she could not deny the fact that it was her decision that caused it to happen. If she had not been impulsive last night, she would not have been in such a dilemma. "We all make mistakes, Vi. No matter what happens, I'll be here for you." Via hugged Cassie tighter, afraid that her friend would change once she heard what happened. "I slept with a stranger last night."

"Ano pa ba ang magagawa natin? eh sa huli na tayo. Halika ka na nga. Sa taas na lang tayo para makita natin." Hindi na lang ako sumagot at naka-ngusong sumunod sa kaniya. Habang nag-lalakad kami paakyat. Napatigil ako sa pag-lalakad ng marinig ko ang boses ng kunsino man. Pero familiar ang boses niya parang narinig ko na siya. "I want to tell you that I love you," that songs' feels so familiar. I immediately grab my phone inside of my pocket and searched 'stranger' the song title. And I was right. I didn't know noticed. It's their song.

An elderly man's face surfaces. "Um ... Hello" I commenced not sure of how to start the conversation. "Hello. How may I help you ?" the man asked. Looking at the clothes he was wearing, you'd know he's just managing his life. "Actually my car got hit by someone earlier and he gave me a card to bring my car for fixing" I explained handing him the card . He accessed the card and a smile follows which I found kinda weird . "Come in" was what he said before turning around inside . My brows furrowed in confusion Nevertheless, I followed him. I almost choked at the unusual weird smell that was formulating in the room. Everywhere was dirty and full of grease.

Almost instinctively, I pulled out my phone and checked my browsing history for the video from last night. In it, the side profiles of the two elderly people were identical to the faces of my in-laws standing before me now. If the clip hadn't flashed by so quickly, I would have recognized them right away. And in other videos—those fleeting, fragmented moments—my wife, Cynthia Muller, appeared again and again, holding a child in her arms. The little boy called her "Mom" with intimate affection. Under a sky lit by fireworks, the man held her close and kissed her.

And forget how to breathe. My mother. Young. Smiling. Standing beside a man I have never seen before. The photograph is old. Older than me. Older than the accident. I stare at the stranger’s face. Something about him feels familiar. Too familiar. Then another message appears. Three words. My hands begin to shake. She knew him too. I stare at the photograph again. And then I notice something I missed the first time. My mother isn’t just standing beside the man. She’s holding his hand.