[His smile turns a bit rueful - meeting another version of himself? It sound stupid, but...to imagine a John Steinbeck that didn't do the things he did...]
[It makes him slightly sick, honestly.]
I think I'm just good with one version of me, and that's, well, me. I already have my hands full with that.
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[It makes him slightly sick, honestly.]
I think I'm just good with one version of me, and that's, well, me. I already have my hands full with that.