#Can you imagine if one day you’re just casually passing by your living room window when you see a familiar figure outside with a long coat and converse shoes #and your heart stops for a second as if deciding whether you finally died, but you’re alive, and so you wait for the vision to slip back into your subconscience #but it doesn’t.
#He begins to walk away and your book drops from your hand, falling open and wrinkling its pages while your legs bolt towards the front door #but by the time you fumble onto the steps all you can see is a faint outline of an old police telephone box and the distancing sound of waking dreams. #You can’t help but yell out “DOCTOR!” but it’s as noticeable as the last glimmer of the TARDIS bulb.
#Then you find that somehow the sun as gone down and that you’ve been standing on the sidewalk all afternoon, you also realize that neighbors are staring out their windows. #When you finally get inside you run into the living room and look out the window but it’s all dark now. #You step back and your heal hits something, the book, it’s still on the floor #Picking it up you look at it’s creased pages, refusing to unfold them. #An unexpected bookmark for the day you saw The Doctor.
#Ah but as you pick up the page, you notice something between the pages of the book. # A small key, left behind by someone or something to let you know he is still out there. #You breath in and glance back at the window into the night, listening for anything that might have placed that key in your book. #Nothing comes to your ears. #You clench the key in your fist and turn around, ready to head to bed and wishing that your dream was actually reality.
#That would be when the noise sounded up. #The moment when all hope was gone, you hear the sound again. #The whooshing grinding noise that brings hope back to life. #You look over your shoulder into the gloom, # seeing a faint light pierce the dark. #A blue box. #One that is bigger on the inside.# A head pops out of it and looks at you as you stare at the window.