Without much thought, Ethan stepped into the bathroom, preparing himself for an evening out—a self-indulgent treat to celebrate the resounding success of his novel. Once ready, he hailed a cab, instructing the driver to take him to a good restaurant.  

As the cab pulled up to its destination, the restaurant’s warm lights spilled onto the sidewalk. And then it hit him—the sentence Shambles had uttered before parting ways. Simple words, yet they clung to him like stubborn cobwebs. What did they mean? Why did they linger?  

Inside the restaurant, Ethan savored each bite, but his mind kept circling back to that enigmatic encounter. And then, as he asked for the bill, déjà vu struck. The waiter—the face from another time—stood before him. 

Recognition dawned: This was where he’d first met Shambles—the enigma who’d slipped from ink and into his life.  

Funny how life loops back on itself, isn’t it? As Ethan stepped outside the restaurant, pulling his coat tighter against the chill of the rain. The downpour had picked up, drumming against the awning above him and pooling along the curb. He paused, watching the water cascade in shimmering trails under the streetlights. The rain always had a way of stirring memories.  

He waved for a cab, his mind still circling the waiter’s face. That brief, startling recognition. It wasn’t just familiar—it was a memory, clawing its way to the surface.  

Ethan slipped into the back seat of the cab, the rain still streaking through the windows as the city blurred past. And then, like a bolt of lightning splitting the sky, it hit him.  

As the cab carried him home, his mind wandered to that night. The memory came unbidden: he had been sitting at a corner table, sketching absentmindedly, trying to outrun his writer’s block. The sound of the door opening, the rush of cool air, and the man who walked in...   

  

Shamble. His name hung in the air like a ghost, pulling Ethan deeper into the memory—the stranger’s sharp features, his wet coat dripping onto the floor, the uncanny way their conversation began.  

And now, here he was again. The same place. The same rain. The same questions lingering, unanswered.