Stairwell to Work Hallway and the Open Fridge

Stairwell to Work Hallway and the Open Fridge

I was in our apartment building’s stairwell, going down to get the mail, except the stairs kept going past the lobby. I could hear someone a few floors below, same pace as me. When I reached what should have been the ground floor it was the hallway at work, fluorescent lights, that one printer that always jams. My neighbor from 3B was standing by the copier but she had my old manager’s voice, asking why I hadn’t signed something. I said I didn’t have a pen. She pointed at my pocket and my phone was gone. I kept checking the same four pockets. The hallway stretched, doors all numbered 12, and I could still hear footsteps behind me, closer. I ducked into the break room and it was my kitchen. The fridge was open. I woke up before I looked inside, heart going, like I’d almost been caught doing nothing.