"Ayaan Kapoor," CG said, not looking up from a holographic tablet. "You’re in the waiting room. You aren’t dead yet, but your body is currently arguing with a telephone pole. While the doctors work, we play a game."
As the black jar reached the brim, Ayaan realized something terrifying: his life wasn't a series of big events, but a million tiny choices. He begged for one last memory. "Ayaan Kapoor," CG said, not looking up from
He saw himself as a teenager, helping an old man cross a flooded street, ruining his own expensive shoes in the process. A flurry of white pebbles poured into the jar. It was a tie. " CG said