Productivity Audit

The hallway past the elevator was wrong. Too long. Too quiet.

No windows. No exit signs. Just doors labeled with dates instead of names.

My phone buzzed again. Meeting starts in 02:00 I walked.

Running felt dangerous, like missing another deadline. Every step echoed behind me,

slightly delayed, like someone copying my movements. I passed a door marked TOMORROW.

Then NEXT YEAR. Then one that simply read REGRET. Conference Room B waited at the

end. The door was already open. Inside, a long table.

At the far end sat someone wearing my clothes, my posture, my face—but calmer.