One morning Henry awoke to find a particularly odd message scrawled on his ceiling in lipstick.
“Dear Henry,” it began, “congratulations! You have found a way to travel between parallel universes… If you find a way to stop, please let the rest of us know.”
“Signed, the Henry who puts his keys in the right front pocket, the Henry who chose the red overcoat instead of the rust orange, and the Henry who did not marry Anne.”
“Oh.” Said the Henry who put his keys on the table by the door, had done with the nice gray cloak, and had also very definitely not married Anne.
Suddenly the past few weeks made much more sense…