Endless Subway, Maya Jacket, and the Grocery Store Door

Endless Subway, Maya Jacket, and the Grocery Store Door

I woke up late for work, rushed out of the apartment, and realized I’d left my phone in the kitchen. As I fumbled for it, I heard my boyfriend’s voice behind me, but when I turned, it was actually my ex‑college roommate, Maya, standing in the hallway wearing his jacket. She smiled, and I felt that weird mix of familiarity and guilt. We both ran for the subway, but the platform was endless and the train doors kept closing just as we reached them. Suddenly the train arrived, and Maya was sitting next to me, laughing about a joke only we used to share. I tried to tell him I was on my way, but my phone was dead and I couldn’t call. The train stopped at a station I didn’t recognize, and the doors opened onto a grocery store instead of the street. I saw my boyfriend’s face on a poster in the aisle, and Maya’s hand slipped into mine. I woke up in the bathroom, heart racing, wondering why I was still holding Maya’s hand.