Twelve Minutes Left and the Aisles Became a Stairwell

Twelve Minutes Left and the Aisles Became a Stairwell

I had to get a package to my sister before the post office closed, but I couldn't find it anywhere in the apartment. I checked the couch cushions, then the hallway, which went on longer than it should have and opened into the back of the grocery store near my old job. My phone said I had twelve minutes, except the clock kept jumping. A guy who looked like my manager but sounded like my brother pointed me toward aisle seven. I walked and the aisles turned into the stairwell at Mom's house. The package was sitting on a step in a plain brown bag, and I grabbed it, relieved, then realized I didn't know which door led back outside. I kept climbing, half embarrassed I'd be late again, and woke up still holding the feeling of the bag in my hand.