Something wasn’t right. I was seeing but not seeing and it took my mind to take notice of what my eyes had already picked up.

As I stood and stared out of the window, on hold classical music playing in my ear, I had a creeping feeling of deja vu, that I had seen the sun and shadows move like it did exactly as it was now - but I’d never been in William’s apartment before. I was remembering something I couldn’t possibly have memories of. Something told me there would be a small black cat curled up on the window sill opposite.

I walked forwards slowly, peering forwards and nearly dropped my phone when I saw a small black cat curled up on the window sill opposite. I leaned my head against the glass looking down, my hand with the phone falling to my side. I reasoned that I had somehow seen that before when I had entered and walked around the apartment without properly registering it and my memory had reminded me of it moments ago.

I hung up the phone, knowing, in the same way I knew about the cat, that there wasn’t anyone working at this company - the number was a placeholder to give the company’s website the appearance of normalcy; nobody would ever pick up on that line.

I gathered my things and left William’s apartment for the first and probably last time. I had a few hours to kill before my return flight and, with nothing else to do in this town, decided to get a coffee.

It wasn’t a large city but the atmosphere seemed muted and the streets eerily empty, like everyone was shut up in the buildings. It was a weekday, I think - rush hour hadn’t started yet.

The coffee place was a popular chain but there was no queue and I caught the person behind the counter sleeping with their eyes open, their attention snapping to when I said hello to them.

“What can I get you, sir?” she said.

I gave my order and she turned around to make the drink. I watched her carefully, my unease once more rising at the way the day was turning out.

She gave me the drink and I paid, her eyes looking through me without the faintest glimmer of recognition.

I didn’t move from the counter after paying and she kept the fixed grin on her face as she addressed me once more.

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“Was there anything else, sir?”

She was looking at me but there was something about her gaze - I couldn’t fix her eyes onto mine, try as I might.

“You don’t recognise me?”

She cocked her head slightly to the side, like a dog does when it’s thinking.

“This morning, on the flight? You accused me of not being a real person.”

She was wearing a work uniform rather than the jumpsuit but it was definitely her.

“I’m sorry, sir…”

“Did you get another flight after? You must have otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

She shook her head. “I don’t fly. I… I don’t like planes.”

I looked back at her and got the same artificial grin. I’m not sure what I wanted from her but, whatever it was, I wasn’t going to get it. I nodded and murmured “My mistake, thanks for the coffee,” and walked out, looking back as I opened the door. Her face had adopted the same blank stare that she had had when I entered.

Maybe it was the caffeine rush after I had chugged the coffee but my head was starting to hurt so I took a cab to the airport and decided to take a seat at check-in, shut my eyes, and wait out the remaining hours until my flight back home.

When I was younger I had taken an edible and the drug had made it seem like my head was moving in slow motion when I turned it and it shot my short term memory. I had tried watching a movie during the experience and, an hour and a half in, I couldn’t remember anything I’d seen of it nor understood what was going on in it.

That was the experience from leaving the coffee shop to being sat in a chair in the airport. It was like I had made the transition with my eyes closed. I couldn’t describe the scenery of the city as I drove to the airport or the driver, whether they had talked to me or not.

My mind drifted aimlessly, finally latching onto my mental lifebuoy: my routine. If I ever felt at a loss as to what I should do, there were a set of things I could always do in the short term to fill my time and distract me from circular thoughts and inertia. Some of them were things I couldn’t do in my present circumstances - these involved cleaning my home, doing laundry, buying groceries - but there were other things I could do, like read a book, catch up on email admin, journal.

I set a timer for 10 minutes per activity and began focusing my thoughts on doing these. In this way, the woman on the plane was right: having a routine that I did nearly everyday without fail is like behaving like a Non-Player Character, who I understand only do a small number of tasks repetitively. But then life couldn’t be all big moments - most of it was made up of small, mundane tidbits that filled our days and made little lasting impression.

The timer went off and I moved onto the next activity which was to watch an improving video. Today, I decided to watch a philosophy video on free will. I don’t claim to understand most of these videos that I watch but I continue on in the hope that some of the detail seeps through and I absorb one or two points that might make my life more interesting or better in some nebulous way.

It was a fortuitous choice though, considering the day I’d had. If free will is an illusion then wouldn’t that make all of us non-player characters in our own lives - going about our days, knowing all of our behaviours are pre-programmed and there is nothing we can do to change our lives’ trajectory?

Previous videos had included discussion of living within a simulation and/or being a sophisticated AI - would we ever know if we were in a simulation, or an AI? It’s comforting to me at least to know that these are questions we will never have real answers for.

The TV screen playing in the background caught my eye and I felt my heartbeat quicken once more at what was playing on it.