Translated from RU
I stand in a supermarket, trying to choose bread. All the loaves are the same, only each is labeled with my last name. The seller advises, “Take the one that suits you best.”
I pick one — it starts to beat softly, like a heart.
Embarrassed, I put it back.
On the neighboring shelf, I see a basket of apples, each bearing my face, but with different expressions: happy, angry, tired, scared…
One apple blinks and says:
— So, have you decided which one you are today?
I turn away and want to leave, but the checkout counters have vanished. At the exit stands my teacher from school, checking receipts:
— Even in a dream, you can't escape choice.
I look in the cart — it’s empty.
But for some reason, it feels heavy.
