Private by default — share only the days you choose.
No comments yet. Be the first to comment!
Sign in to leave a comment.
The door was already open when Sera arrived at the archive. She stopped in the corridor, one hand...
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, which was wrong. Elena had specified Mondays. She'd been very...
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, which was strange, because Mara had been dead for six...
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, which Nora had always considered an unlucky day. She'd been...
The envelope had no return address. Just her name — Sera Voss — written in handwriting she...
The envelope arrived on a Tuesday, which was Elena's first mistake—thinking Tuesdays were safe.
She slit it open with her grandmother's letter knife, the one with the serpent handle, and three photographs spilled onto her kitchen table. All identical. All impossible.
In each photo, she stood in front of the fountain at Riverside Park. Same black coat. Same red scarf. Same expression of mild annoyance, probably because some tourist had asked her to move.
The problem? Elena hadn't been to Riverside Park in three years. Not since Marcus died there.
She flipped the first photo. On the back, in handwriting she didn't recognize: Tuesday, March 11, 2026. 3:47 PM.
Yesterday.
Her phone buzzed. Unknown number.
"Ms. Chen?" A woman's voice, professional but strained. "This is Detective Morrison. I need you to come down to the station. It's about the photographs."
"How did you—"
"You'll receive them in about thirty seconds. I'm sorry. I know this must be confusing."
"I already have them."
Silence stretched between them like a wire pulled taut.
"That's not possible," the detective said finally. "I'm looking at the postmark right now. They won't arrive until—" She stopped. "Where are you?"
"Home. Where else would I be?"
"Check your reflection."
Elena's eyes moved to the window. In the glass, she saw her kitchen, her table, the photographs.
And behind her, standing in the doorway to her bedroom, another version of herself. Watching. Smiling.
The phone slipped from her hand.
The other Elena raised one finger to her lips.
Then she flickered and vanished, leaving only a red scarf puddled on the floor—a scarf Elena was currently wearing around her own neck.
#serialfiction #mystery #timetravel #thriller
