a little déja vu

I used to confuse déja vu with nostalgia. All of a sudden, while walking down an unfamiliar street, the past would break through to the present. This jolt told me, reminded me, but of what? I would shrug, thinking it must be something significant that I would figure out later.

Then I started moving around. In each city, the little déja vus were about the previous <a href=" View my Pirate Page ” target=”_blank”>city.

 

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