Reoccurring reality

He bent down to put his heavy bag down to unlock the door, after a long days work he was ready for some beer and a fine hooker.

Pushing the key inside, he finds much to his surprise the door is already unlocked.

Fear strikes his heart as a list of the house valuables that could’ve been stolen crosses his mind, the fact that he thought of his baby last doesn’t bother him at all.

Pushing it all aside he rushes in ready to face the worst but what he saw shocked him completely.

On the floor sat little Jack laughing and just beside Jack he saw his own self.

Playing with Jack.

Om Chatterjee

Om Chatterjee

Hey, I am 18 and a budding culinary consultant. Writing is my passion and it helps me bridge the gap between 'Life' and 'Reality'. I write short stories, poetries and raps. I write for my readers, hence like to hear from them about what I write. Constructive criticism is most welcome. I look forward to the day when I will find you in my café, listening to my rap while sipping coffee and sandwiches or maybe just reading my book. Till then, take care.

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