Your Unfinished Future

The last door closes behind you without hurry.

You leave here given back a hallway you were once called into, counted among the guests who stayed for a second cup, and with a conversation waiting for you further on. You also go out with a line still open behind you.

The Domestic Weather Memory Era files your future under shelter. Expect rain indoors, and a voice calling you in before the thunder.

The Counterfactual Communications Boom keeps your line open. Somewhere a receiver is warm, and nobody in that kitchen has hung up.

The doors lock behind you. The exhibits continue without an audience, as they have for years.