Once-Upon-a-Matt

Matt here, checking in. 
 

There's nothing to do here and nowhere to go because everything in Blackbottom is meticulously engineered to incentive poverty and ya boi is broke as shit, so I was walking around because so far, that's free, when I saw a kid in the ditches on 46th Street who looked exactly like Once-Upon-A-Matt. 

Seriously, this kid had shoulder-length black hair, an ill-advised wallet chain, and a Lacuna Coil shirt that I'd bet he's going to grow out of around sophomore year of college, if I had two pennies to bet. 

I thought maybe it was just an echo. Time repeating itself, like it's failing its own calibration and trying to correct being out of phase. Like that Civil War soldier I got to watch get shot every night in the backyard when I lived in Dawson, Alabama. Or like one of the handfuls of quasidecent explanations of the Mandela Effect. 

But I don't remember doing the stuff he was doing. 

Now, generally, that's no surprise. As a kid, I played in that ditch several thousand times. Ran away from home with my little brother for a couple hours and lived under a walkway in the ditch like a couple trolls whose repertoire of riddles left a little something to be desired. 

But Echo Kid Matt was alone and appeared to be messing around with some kind of device that looked like it was made with a portable tape player, a Pringles can, duct tape, and hope. 

I blinked and he was gone. 

I don't think I should interact with him in case I'm right and he's me, but also what the hell was he doing? 

I'ma see if Bo wants to willingly hang out in Blackbottom, see if we can figure this thing out.