Step out and back in through the other entrance—same floor plan, but different light. The TV is a 4K smart screen streaming Netflix’s autoplay trailer. An iPhone X sits on the counter, screen cracked. AirPods case next to a half-empty can of LaCroix. Calendar: October 2018, marked with “Midterms - vote.” In the corner, a Juul and a fidget spinner. The router blinks white. Everyone’s tired but scrolling.
Walk through, and the air smells like warm vinyl and strawberry Lip Smackers. A chunky CRT TV plays Total Request Live . A disc man skips on a pile of Nintendo Power magazines. Cordless landline phone with a stretched-out antenna. A calendar on the wall still says December—everyone wondering if Y2K will really crash the grid. The kitchen hums with a beige iMac G3. Outside the window: dial-up tone in the wind. a house with 2 doors for 2 timeline 1999 and 2018
One timeline still hoping the future works out. The other already missing when hope felt heavier than memory. Step out and back in through the other