Sprint Down the Endless Hallway to Miss the Upgrade Train

Sprint Down the Endless Hallway to Miss the Upgrade Train

I was late for the morning meeting at the office, sprinting down the hallway that seemed to stretch forever. Every door I passed was the same conference room I use, but the nameplate kept changing—'Design Review', then 'HR Briefing', then 'Server Maintenance'. I finally burst into the room, only to find my old college roommate, Alex, sitting at the table, wearing my boss's suit and typing on a laptop that displayed a map of our high school. He looked up, smiled, and said, 'You missed the upgrade, didn't you?' I tried to explain that I was just trying to get to the quarterly report, but the screen flickered and showed a schedule for a train that never existed. My phone buzzed, but the screen was a mirror reflecting the hallway behind me, endless and empty. I felt that familiar panic of missing the train, but also a strange calm, like I was already somewhere else. I woke up just as I reached for the door handle, and the coffee machine was still humming in the kitchen.