It was a typical, uneventful Monday morning when I walked out of my apartment building, keys jangling in my hand. The sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky a sleepy orange. I was ready to start my day.
But as I approached my car, something caught my eye.
A note.
A small, folded piece of paper tucked under the windshield wiper. Odd. I wasn’t expecting anything—no parking tickets, no flyers. Curiosity piqued, I pulled it free, unfolded it, and my breath caught in my throat. The note simply read:
“You died yesterday.”
My heart thudded, the air around me suddenly thick with tension. What kind of sick joke was this? I glanced around the parking lot—no one in sight. Just me, my car, and that cryptic note in my hand.
I tried to shake off the feeling, convincing myself it was probably a prank. I crumpled the note, stuffed it in my pocket, and climbed into my car. But as I turned the key in the ignition, my thoughts spiraled. Who would write something like that? And why?
The day went on as usual, or at least it tried to. I went to work, sat through meetings, answered emails. But that note gnawed at the edges of my mind. Each glance at the clock, every mundane task, felt… off. Something felt different about the world, as if it had shifted ever so slightly, like a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit anymore.
That evening, I dug the crumpled note out of my pocket again, staring at the words.
“You died yesterday.”
I started to wonder… what if? What if this wasn’t a prank? What if, somehow, in some bizarre, cosmic twist, I really had died yesterday? My mind raced through the possibilities. What if I was stuck in some kind of in-between state?
Determined to find answers, I retraced my steps from the day before. Everything had been ordinary—no accidents, no strange encounters. But as I returned to my apartment, something strange caught my eye.
The date on my phone.
It wasn’t Monday. It was Sunday.
Somehow, I had lost a day. A full 24 hours had slipped through my fingers. The realization sent chills down my spine.
Had I really died yesterday? Was this some kind of second chance? Or was there something else at play, something darker, lurking just beyond the surface of my reality?
The note remained unanswered, but one thing was clear: my life wasn’t the same anymore. Every morning after, I checked my windshield. I waited for another message, hoping for answers.
But nothing ever came again.