ELLEMKTZEN

I was writing in an old black notebook, so engaged in the story, a story so good it didn't seem mine. It was as though I'd copied it from someone else truly magnificent. There they came. They tottered down the overgrown garden pavement an the sun danced on their tiny bond heads. Straight into my arms. And a man followed with another small child in his arms, which funnily enough I knew was mine from the cheeky grin on his face. My family of five walked back up the pavement to the house up ahead, my hand in the mans and a child in the crook of my other arm. And on the way in my eyes rested on a desk with a small library adjoined and the three closest books had my names on their spines and the paper on the desk read a review of my latest novel, a good one too.

I really wish this wasn't a dream, just some kinda crazy Deja vu..