Chronicles in Velvet and Caffeine

In the timeline where I sign this paper, we are strangers passing at a coffee shop. In another dimension, that ink is wet with my signature on his wedding vows instead of mine.

Here and now, the red velvet feels like armor against the cold reality outside. The steam from two cups rises in parallel arcs—his, untouched; mine, cooling as I write our future into existence. Every word flows forward to a universe where we heal each other's broken clocks.

Editor: The Clockmaker