Leo didn’t step out. He just watched. The business-suit man beside him, however, rushed in, straight toward the version of himself that owned a failing bakery. The man grabbed the screen, pressed his forehead against it, and whispered, “I should have burned it all down.”
No wall dissolved. Instead, the carriage floor extended, narrowing into a hallway lined with doors. Each door had a nameplate. Each nameplate read Leo . The Rotating Molester Train -V24.07.23- -RJ0122...
The doors opened. Not onto a platform, but onto his own apartment. The same dusty light. The same unmade bed. The same unwritten pages. Leo didn’t step out