Sprint Down Hallway with Coffee and the Mysterious Key

Sprint Down Hallway with Coffee and the Mysterious Key

I was late for the morning meeting at the office, sprinting down the hallway with my coffee in one hand and a stack of folders in the other. The hallway kept stretching, doors I’d never seen popping up on either side. I finally burst into the conference room, but everyone was wearing the same navy sweater my grandma used to knit, and they all stared at me as if I’d just walked in from a funeral. I tried to explain, but my voice came out as a faint echo, like I was speaking from a distant room. Suddenly the projector flickered and showed a photo of my high school best friend, Maya, who moved away years ago. She was sitting at the table, smiling, but her face kept shifting between hers and my dad’s. I felt a wave of panic, then a strange calm, and realized I was holding a key I didn’t recognize—cold, metallic, and it fit the lock on the office door. I turned the key, the lights went out, and I woke up in my own bed, heart still racing.