The Alternate Universe
The meeting was called by Aditi 1.
This immediately made Aditi 2 nervous.
Aditi 2: What's the agenda?
Aditi 1: A thought experiment.
Aditi 2: No.
Aditi 1: You haven't heard it.
Aditi 2: I don't need to.
Aditi 3: I do.
Aditi 1: Thank you.
Aditi 2: Of course you do.
Aditi 1 stood up.
On the whiteboard she wrote:
ALTERNATE UNIVERSES
Aditi 2: Absolutely not.
Aditi 1: Imagine.
Aditi 2: No.
Aditi 1: Imagine if we'd made different choices.
Aditi 2: I don't like this game.
Aditi 3: I love this game.
Aditi 1: Exactly.
Aditi 2: That's not reassuring.
Aditi 1: What if we'd never started the candle company?
The room got quiet.
Aditi 3: Rude.
Aditi 1: What?
Aditi 3: I don't want to meet that version of us.
Aditi 2: Interesting.
Aditi 3: Imagine having all these ideas and nowhere to put them.
Aditi 1: That's depressing.
Aditi 3: Exactly.
Aditi 2 made a note.
Aditi 1: What are you writing?
Aditi 2: Creative department surprisingly self-aware.
Aditi 3: Thank you.
Aditi 2: That wasn't praise.
Aditi 1: What if we'd never gotten Jelli?
The room immediately became hostile.
Aditi 3: Next question.
Aditi 2: Rejected.
Aditi 1: I was just asking.
Aditi 3: Dangerous question.
Aditi 2: Very dangerous question.
Aditi 1: Fine.
What if we'd taken a completely different job?
Aditi 2 thought about it.
Aditi 3 thought about it.
Aditi 1 waited.
Aditi 2: Honestly?
Aditi 1: Yeah.
Aditi 2: I think we'd still be us.
Aditi 3: Oh.
Aditi 1: Explain.
Aditi 2: I think we spend a lot of time obsessing over decisions.
Aditi 1: Accurate.
Aditi 2: But everywhere we go...
Aditi 3: We show up.
Aditi 2: Exactly.
The room became quiet.
Aditi 2: Different job.
Same person.
Aditi 1: Interesting.
Aditi 2: Different city.
Same person.
Aditi 3: Interesting.
Aditi 2: Different timeline.
Same person.
Aditi 1: Huh.
Aditi 3 sat back.
Aditi 3: You know what's weird?
I always imagine alternate versions of us having everything figured out.
Aditi 1: Me too.
Aditi 2: Me too.
The room stopped.
Aditi 1: Wait.
Aditi 3: Wait.
Aditi 2: What?
Aditi 1: You do?
Aditi 2: Obviously.
Aditi 1: I thought that was just me.
Aditi 3: I thought that was just me.
Aditi 2: No.
I constantly imagine a version of us that's somehow ahead.
More successful.
More organized.
More certain.
Aditi 1: More loved.
Aditi 3: More creative.
Aditi 2: Exactly.
The room became very still.
Aditi 1: Do you think she exists?
Aditi 3: Yeah.
Aditi 2 looked around the room.
At the chaos.
The unfinished projects.
The coffee cups.
The spreadsheets.
The flowers.
The dog hair.
The life.
Aditi 2: No.
Aditi 1: Oh.
Aditi 3: Oh.
Aditi 2: I think she's making it up as she goes too.
Nobody spoke.
Then:
Aditi 1: That's weirdly comforting.
Aditi 3: Very comforting.
Aditi 2: I know.
Aditi 1: So there isn't some magical version of us that has all the answers?
Aditi 2: No.
Aditi 3: Good.
Aditi 1: Why good?
Aditi 3: Because if she existed, we'd compare ourselves to her forever.
The room considered this.
Aditi 2: That's actually a great point.
Aditi 1: Thank you.
Aditi 2: She wasn't talking.
Aditi 1: I know.
Narrator:
The meeting ended at 8:01 AM.
For the rest of the day, the board felt strangely lighter.
Not because they had discovered the perfect future.
But because they had finally stopped competing with an imaginary version of themselves who never existed in the first place.
End of Chapter 13.