The Deja vu hit him like a car running a stop sign while he was taking a bath, that eerie recognition, that moment of time travel and panic.
It left just as quickly, but Reggie Conver had no poker face, so anyone with him would ask what’s wrong any time that feeling hit him.
He could say “nothing” all he wanted, but the Deja vu shook him, and it happened too often.
Sylvia believed in the afterlife, she leaned on it, she focused, she was a true believer, but somehow a previous life was some heretical shit.
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