Bakery Became Hardware Store With Extra Floor

Bakery Became Hardware Store With Extra Floor

I was on the bus to work, same route, same coffee stain on my pants, except when I got off at my stop the street was ours but the bakery was a hardware store and my building had an extra floor. My key still worked. Inside, my apartment was laid out right, but the photos on the fridge were of me with a kid I don’t have, and my partner was in the kitchen like it was normal, asking if I’d packed lunch. I kept checking my phone for the real calendar. At the office, my desk was there, but my coworker from three jobs ago sat in it and knew my current password. We had a meeting about a project I never started. I felt late and also like I’d already lived this Tuesday. Trying to leave, the hallway to the elevator stretched and I could see both my old apartment door and this one at the same time. I woke up relieved I still live alone.