Late on a Lava Tuesday

I blink. I’m already late. The floor is lava. No reason. Just is.

I sprint. The clock screams my name. Narrator voice: bad decision detected.

I open the door—wrong door. It’s a hallway made of Tuesday. My phone vibrates.

It’s me. Future me says, “Don’t turn around.” I turn around. There’s a duck.

Wearing a tie. He hands me a receipt for my thoughts. Total due everything. uh-oh moment unlocked.

The lights flicker. Gravity unsubscribes. I float. My shoes quit their job.

A siren plays elevator music. I land inside my own memory. I’m five seconds

younger. I steal my own snack. Past me cries. Respectfully. villain arc.