Jonathan Lee Witt

The Power in What is Written

He could feel his heart racing as he stared at the strange words on the page. There could be no doubt that it was his own distinctive handwriting, especially since he had just written it with his own hand. He stared at those words for some time, trying in vain to explain how they could have gotten there by some other means. Could the little black notebook have had someone else's writing in it already, and he had simply failed to notice? No, he remembered the first page being blank before he put his pen to it.