Your Unfinished Future

The museum has finished with you for tonight.

You leave here declining something without ever raising your voice, visited by friends who leave no weather behind, and known by something that cannot quite place your name. You also go out answered by a life you decided not to live and 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 lights go down one room at a time, in the order you walked them.