Your Unfinished Future

Your walk is over. What follows is only what the rooms noticed.

You leave here advised in advance by someone who writes like you, with one Thursday already rearranged, and given back a hallway you were once called into. You also go out counted among the guests who stayed for a second cup.

The Civic Time Expansion Era expects you back. It is still holding a day with your name on it and no year to put it in.

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

Keep the ticket. None of these futures arrived, and one of them is now yours.