Delivering the Wrong Keys to a Wedding

Delivering the Wrong Keys to a Wedding

I was on a desperate mission to deliver a specific set of keys to my sister before her wedding started, but the venue was somehow merged with my old high school. I had to navigate this endless, dimly lit basement corridor full of stacked gym mats and half-open storage lockers. Every time I thought I found the right exit to the main hall, a former coworker would stop me with some trivial question about printer paper, slowing me down. My phone had three percent battery and the floor became increasingly slippery, like polished wet tile, making it impossible to run properly. It felt like an epic cross-country trek even though I was just trying to cross a building. I finally pushed open a heavy fire door into a sunlit courtyard, saw her waving from the front row, and woke up right as I realized I had the wrong keys in my hand.