Maya — My Phone Received Messages From Tomorrow

My phone buzzed at 9:00 with a message from an unknown number: ‘At 10:00, the blue glass will break.’ I assumed it was spam until the blue drinking glass beside my sink cracked exactly one hour later, although nobody had touched it. A second message predicted that the lights would flicker. A third said a woman in a yellow coat would knock and ask for the wrong apartment. Each event happened precisely on time.

At 11:00, a new message appeared: ‘At midnight, he will finally tell you the truth.’ I thought of the man I had recently started dating—the one whose replies had become shorter whenever I asked where the relationship was going. I called him, but when he answered I heard my own voice speaking from his phone: ‘You already know what silence means.’ Then the call ended.

At 11:59, someone knocked three times. Through the peephole I saw myself standing in the hallway, soaked by rain and holding the same phone. Her screen showed a photograph of me looking through the peephole. My final message arrived: ‘Do not let me in. I already made that mistake.’

The woman outside began knocking harder. She said she had come from tomorrow to stop me from waiting for a truth someone else would never choose to give. When I asked why I should trust her, she held her phone against the door. On its screen was a video of my apartment one hour in the future. The door stood open. The room was empty except for two phones ringing on the floor.

My lock slowly turned from the outside. I received one last message, this time from my own number: ‘At midnight, Maya will decide which version of uncertainty she can live with.’ The clock changed to 12:00, but the knocking stopped. I woke before opening the door, with a missed call on my real phone from a number I recognized but had promised myself I would not contact.