Endless Hallway, Pink Dress, and the Red Balloon Chase

Endless Hallway, Pink Dress, and the Red Balloon Chase

I woke up late for work, sprinting down the hallway of my apartment building, but the hallway kept stretching forever. I finally burst out the front door and realized I was wearing a bright pink dress I’d never own, not my usual jeans. On the subway, a guy I used to sit next to in chemistry class—Mike, who I haven’t seen in years—was standing right in front of me, holding a coffee I hadn’t ordered. He smiled, and I felt that old flutter in my chest, but I couldn’t remember his name. He asked if I wanted to grab lunch, and I nodded, but the train doors closed just as I reached for his hand. I ran after the train, the platform turning into a long, empty hallway that kept looping back to the same spot. I finally caught up, but the train was gone and the platform was empty except for a single red balloon floating by. I reached out, the balloon popped, and I woke up with my heart still racing.