Endless Hallway Sprint to Mixed Downtown High School Street

Endless Hallway Sprint to Mixed Downtown High School Street

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, only to find the street was a mix of my usual downtown block and the old high school courtyard. The buses were there, but the driver was my former English teacher, looking like both him and my dad at the same time. I tried to hand him my bus pass, but it turned into a rusted key I couldn't fit into any lock. The bus doors opened onto a dimly lit market stall where my sister was selling candles that smelled like rain. I grabbed one, but it melted into ash as soon as I touched it. A coworker I hadn't seen in years waved from the other side, wearing the same navy suit I wear to meetings, but his face kept flickering to a stranger's. I felt a knot of panic, then the whole scene faded as the bus horn blared, and I jolted awake, still half‑breathless, wondering if I’d missed the 8:15.