I woke up

in a library where every book was titled with a date. Curious, I pulled one from the shelf. The cover read: June 3, 2046. Inside was a detailed account of my day - every conversation, every choice, every mistake. As I flipped through the pages, I realized the book wasn't predicting the future. It was recording it. And with every second that passed, new words appeared on the final page. Then the lights went out. A new sentence slowly wrote itself across the paper: "Someone else has entered the library."