Coffee and Tea


“I have a theory,” he said, setting his espresso on the table.

“You always have a theory,” I sighed.

He smiled. “What if the many-worlds interpretation is only half right? What if reality splits whenever we make a decision, but timelines can merge later on? That’s why I can put my socks away and then find them on the couch. I got here through one branch but the socks came through another where I didn’t tidy up.”

“Cute,” I said. “But like all your cute theories it’s unprovable.”

He picked up his lemon tea and blew on it. “I suppose.”