FICTION: Chapter 10A (Complete)

During the night I dreamed there was someone at the desk, in faint light, a ghost of a shadow, barely there, a creature made of smoke, hunched over, scribbling in a tiny pond of light. It was impossible, and in any case obviously something to do with my own hours of cramped, hunched scribble at that same desk. I thought nothing of it and rolled over.

Then, this morning, over breakfast, I open my notebook and find this–