Winter Coat and the Dark Yellow Apartment

Winter Coat and the Dark Yellow Apartment

I got off the bus outside my apartment building, but the street was slightly wrong. The convenience store on the corner had a different name and sold things in faded teal packaging, but I went inside anyway to get milk. My coworker Mark was behind the counter, only he didn't recognize me and looked older, wearing a navy uniform like he worked for the city. I tried to pay with my phone, but the screen just showed an unfamiliar transit map that I couldn't navigate. When I finally walked up to my floor, my key fit the deadbolt, but the inside was painted dark yellow and lived in by someone else—though my winter coat was still hanging on the hook by the door. I had this quiet, suffocating panic that I had stepped off at the wrong version of my stop and couldn't remember which bus line took me back.