When first married, Jeff and I lived in an apartment in one of two identical brick buildings — apartment 2Q, at the far end of the hall.
One day, having taken the bus home, I came through the front door, took the elevator up, then walked the long hallway to the apartment. As I started to put my key in the lock, I realized there was a nameplate on the door — “2Q, Kincaid.”
Not my name. The right apartment. But not mine. Hmm.
I took a deep breath, walked back to the elevator, made a u-turn and walked the hallway again. It still said “Kincaid.” Instantly I knew what had happened. I had slipped through an invisible gateway or wormhole into a parallel universe, another dimension where I didn’t exist. I’d been replaced by someone named Kincaid.
It took a while, standing there, staring at the door before it occurred to me I was in the wrong building. A simple mistake: the two buildings were twins. Oops.
What was interesting is not that I went into the wrong building but I assumed I’d slipped into the Twilight Zone. Does everyone think like that? What would YOU think?