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Summary
Alexander Hamilton gets shot on July 11th, 1804. He shortly dies the day after, a 47 year old man.
So why the hell is he standing here in the bustling streets of New York City, feeling as young as he was when he first stepped foot into America? He glances at a newspaper abandoned on the street, the numbers 1776 bolded at the top. This cannot be happening. The last thing he saw was Burr's bullet flying towards him, before everything turned white; he's definitely dead.
Is this what they call life flashing before your eyes? If that's so, Burr, well, past Burr should be walking around the corner in 3, 2... "Hey kid, what're you doing?" His thoughts screech to a halt as he almost runs into the looming figure in front of him. Hamilton raises his eyes slowly. A young Aaron Burr stares at him, "I asked what you're doing."
Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
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Bookmark Notes:
“it’s only a matter of tiiiiiiiiiiii-“
“PARDON ME ARE YOU AARON BURR SIR”
(he goes back to 1776 😼😼 wowie)