The Wet Alley Behind the Pharmacy and Lost Phone

The Wet Alley Behind the Pharmacy and Lost Phone

I was walking home from the office in that wet alley behind the pharmacy, even though I never go that way. Streetlights were too far apart. I kept thinking I’d dropped my phone, so I kept checking my pockets and coming up empty. A guy in a coat was standing under the fire escape like he was waiting for me. When he turned, it was my old coworker Mark, but also my neighbor from the first apartment—same face, two voices. He asked if I still had the envelope from the copier room. I said I didn’t know what he meant and he just nodded like that was the wrong answer. The alley stretched longer every time I tried to reach the street. I could hear a train I was supposed to catch. I never found the phone. I woke up still patting my pajama pocket.