Lost in the office maze of endless hallways and locked doors

Lost in the office maze of endless hallways and locked doors

I was late for work again, but this time the office building was a maze of identical hallways that seemed to stretch forever. Every door I tried was locked, and the badge scanner kept flashing red. I could hear my boss's voice echoing down the corridor, saying, "Where are you? The meeting started ten minutes ago." I kept looking for the conference room, but each turn led to a different floor—one had a kitchen that looked exactly like my apartment's, another was a grocery aisle with my favorite cereal on the shelf. My phone was dead, and I couldn't call anyone for help. Finally, I found a door that looked like the lobby, but instead of the receptionist, an old high‑school friend was standing there, holding a stack of papers I hadn't seen in years. She smiled and said, "You finally made it. We have a lot to catch up on," but I couldn't remember any of the details. I woke up feeling panicky and oddly nostalgic, still half‑expecting the hallway to keep going.