Endless Hallway Leads to a Surreal Elevator Ride

Endless Hallway Leads to a Surreal Elevator Ride

I woke up late for work and rushed out of the apartment, but the hallway in my building kept stretching. I could see the lobby at the end, then a grocery store, then the subway platform, all glued together like one endless corridor. I kept looking for the elevator, but every door I opened led to a different floor of the same building—my old high school gym, my mom’s kitchen, the office break room. When I finally found the elevator, it was full of people I hadn’t seen in years, all wearing the same navy uniform I wear at the office. I stepped in, pressed the button for the 8 a.m meeting, and the doors opened onto my actual office, except the desks were arranged like a living‑room and my boss was sitting on a couch, reading a newspaper from the 1990s. I tried to hand him the report, but my hand turned into a thin sheet of paper that fluttered away. I woke up just as the elevator dinged, heart pounding, and realized I’d left my phone on the kitchen counter.