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Captioned Images Series: I'm Mrs. Pangborn, Now 2
Created: 06/19/2026
Nicholle was puzzled when she received the text.
Come over to Mrs. Pangborn's house. It's important.
It was from her brother, Jeffrey.
Mrs. Pangborn lived only a few blocks away, but Jeffrey had never mentioned spending time with her. Curious, Nicholle walked over that afternoon and rang the doorbell.
"Come in!" a voice called.
She opened the door and stepped inside.
The living room looked exactly as she remembered it. Sitting in a club chair near the window was Mrs. Pangborn.
At least, it appeared to be Mrs. Pangborn.
She wore a colorful floral-print blouse tucked neatly into a high-waisted pinstripe pencil skirt. Sheer tights covered her legs, and black Mary Jane pumps rested on the carpet. A simple gold necklace and matching earrings completed the polished look.
Nicholle looked around.
"Where's my brother?"
Mrs. Pangborn looked up immediately.
"I'm Jeffrey."
Nicholle stared.
"What?"
"I'm Jeffrey," Mrs. Pangborn repeated. "Mrs. Pangborn stole my identity. Now I'm stuck like this."
Nicholle blinked.
The statement was so absurd that she wasn't sure how to respond.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I'm serious."
"No, you're not."
Mrs. Pangborn leaned forward.
"Look at me closely."
Against her better judgment, Nicholle did.
Mrs. Pangborn pointed to her face.
"Really look."
Nicholle examined her.
For the first time, she noticed things she had never paid attention to before.
Mrs. Pangborn's face did seem somewhat strong and angular. Her jaw was broader than many women her age. Her shoulders were wide beneath the floral blouse. Her figure wasn't especially curvy./
The more Nicholle looked, the more she found features that seemed oddly youthful and sturdy despite Mrs. Pangborn's age.
"There," Mrs. Pangborn said hopefully. "You see it now, don't you?"
Nicholle shrugged.
"I see Mrs. Pangborn."
"What?"
"You look exactly like Mrs. Pangborn."
Mrs. Pangborn groaned.
"The magic makes me dress like this too."
Nicholle glanced down at the outfit.
The floral blouse.
The pencil skirt.
The tights.
The Mary Jane pumps.
Everything about the appearance seemed perfectly appropriate for Mrs. Pangborn.
"You are certainly dressed like Mrs. Pangborn."
"I don't have a choice!"
Nicholle folded her arms.
"Okay. Then tell me something only my brother would know."
Mrs. Pangborn opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
A confused expression crossed her face.
"Well..."
She thought.
And thought.
Nothing came out.
Nicholle waited.
Surely if she really were Jeffrey, she could answer a simple question.
Instead Mrs. Pangborn just sat there looking frustrated.
"I know things," she said finally.
"Like what?"
"I..."
Her voice trailed off.
Nicholle sighed.
"Right."
Mrs. Pangborn's face fell.
"You don't believe me."
"No."
"But I'm telling the truth."
Nicholle shook her head.
As strange as the situation was, she couldn't ignore what she was seeing.
This woman looked like Mrs. Pangborn.
Sounded like Mrs. Pangborn.
Lived in Mrs. Pangborn's house.
And couldn't provide a single piece of evidence that she was anyone else.
Nicholle started toward the door.
Mrs. Pangborn suddenly stood up.
"No, wait!"
Nicholle turned back.
Tears were forming in Mrs. Pangborn's eyes.
"You can't leave me like this."
Nicholle hesitated.
"I don't want to stay an old lady," Mrs. Pangborn said.
The desperation in her voice was genuine.
For a moment Nicholle felt sorry for her.
Whatever was going on, Mrs. Pangborn clearly believed what she was saying.
But there wasn't anything Nicholle could do.
"I'm sorry," she said gently.
Then she left.
---
As she walked home, Nicholle kept thinking about the encounter.
It simply didn't make sense.
The whole story was ridiculous.
To reassure herself, she pulled out her phone and called Jeffrey.
After a few rings, he answered.
"Hey, Nicholle."
Jeffrey's voice was high-pitched and melodious.
Relief washed over her immediately.
"Jeffrey, you're not going to believe what just happened."
"What happened?"
"I just came from Mrs. Pangborn's house."
There was a pause.
"Okay..."
Nicholle laughed.
"She claims she's you."
Jeffrey chuckled.
"What?"
"Seriously. She says Mrs. Pangborn stole your identity."
Jeffrey laughed harder.
Nicholle smiled.
As she listened to her brother's familiar voice, she pictured him in her mind.
Jeffrey looked nothing like Mrs. Pangborn.
He had a soft, rounded face with full cheeks and kind eyes. His features were gentle and expressive. Fine lines around his eyes and mouth reflected years of smiling.
His figure was full and curvy, with rounded hips and thighs. His hands were small. His skin showed age spots and slight sagging that came with late middle age. His shoulder-length curly hair contained elegant streaks of gray.
Everything about him felt warm and familiar.
Compared to him, Mrs. Pangborn seemed entirely different.
How could anyone mistake one for the other?
"She wanted me to think she was you," Nicholle said.
"Sounds like Mrs. Pangborn is getting stranger in her old age," Jeffrey replied.
"That's exactly what I thought."
They chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up.
When the call ended, Nicholle felt much better.
The whole thing had been nonsense.
Mrs. Pangborn was simply an elderly neighbor with an overactive imagination.
Jeffrey was Jeffrey.
Mrs. Pangborn was Mrs. Pangborn.
And as far as Nicholle was concerned, there was no mystery at all.
Image made with Gemini AI Image Generator