Coffee Shop Front Desk in My High School Hallway

Coffee Shop Front Desk in My High School Hallway

I was standing in the lobby of my old high school, but the front desk was a coffee shop I’d never seen before. The barista, who looked exactly like Mr. Patel from my chemistry class, handed me a steaming mug and asked, “Late again?” I checked my watch – it read 3:17, but the hallway behind me stretched forever, doors opening onto the same hallway over and over. I tried to find the gym for my morning run, but every door led to a different classroom, each with the same flickering fluorescent lights. A woman in a trench coat – half my sister, half a stranger – slipped a folded note into my hand. The note said, “Find the key, or you’ll miss the train.” I realized I’d left my car keys on the kitchen counter at home, but the kitchen was now a cramped subway platform, and the train doors were closing. I lunged, but my feet felt like they were stuck in mud. Just as the train hissed shut, I woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of my alarm.