My car is two years older than I am. The most advanced thing in it is the radio. Despite having been manufactured in 1985, it only had 40,000 miles on it when I bought it a couple years back. The woman who owned it before had other vehicles, and didn’t drive it much. I have some errands to run after work, and my last stop is at a client’s house. I park it on the street but don’t even turn it off since I’m just dropping off some papers. A moment later, I step back into my car and notice something different. There’s a tape deck and a CD player. As I look closer, I notice an auxiliary port, power windows, and cup holders. I haven’t had cup holders since college when I drove my dad’s old truck. My first thought is that it’s a prank, but it would be logistically impossible to pull off. Even though this strange new vehicle is clean of dust and grime, the fast food trash, my books, and other such things are all in the exact same places as before. Even the towel I keep draped over the passenger seat hasn’t budged. My defroster stopped working a few weeks after buying it, so I use the towel to wipe off the inside of the windshield when it’s raining. I start the car, and find that the defroster now does work. I step back out and look at the exterior. It looks like a slightly newer model, but the bird droppings and tree sap on the hood are still there. I take out my phone and do some research. I find one theory that says reality is fluctuating all the time but that we just don’t reme
