Feel both futures before you choose.
Describe two paths you're considering. Instead of another pro/con list, Which Life? imagines an ordinary day in each future so you can see how each one feels to live.
This is the complete, real output from an actual Which Life? run on the sample choice below — nothing here is invented or shortened.
Sample choice (2 years out)
Path A: stay in my current city, keep my job, stay close to family, and buy a small place in two or three years. Path B: take the offer in Seattle, with a 30% raise and a genuinely better role, and leave behind twelve years of friendships and parents twenty minutes away.
Real run, 2026-09-23 — the tool's own built-in example scenario.
You are up before your partner, coffee on, the familiar sound of the street below. The commute is the commute — you know which lane to be in, which light takes forever. At your desk by nine, and there is a small satisfaction in that: the competence of a place where you already know where everything is. Mid-morning, your mother texts a photo of something in her garden. You reply immediately because you are twenty minutes away and it costs nothing. Lunch is with two people you have known for seven years — nobody has to explain their history. The afternoon is ordinary in the way afternoons here are ordinary; whether manageable is enough is a question that surfaces around three o'clock, then recedes. On the way home you stop at the place you have been looking at online, the one that might be realistic in another year or so if the savings hold. Dinner is easy. One of your oldest friends drops by unannounced and stays two hours. The question you brought into this year is still there. You have not answered it.
The alarm goes at six-forty and for a half-second you still do not quite know which city this is. The commute is not what you expected — some mornings it is fine, this morning there is a delay and you stand in it, aware that you still do not know anyone well enough to text about something small. The work is harder than the old job — that is mostly good. A problem lands on your desk that you have not seen before, and by noon you have something that might hold. The raise is real. The responsibility is real. Somebody from the team suggests lunch; the conversation is careful in the way it is with people you are still learning — not bad, just not fast yet. At three your phone shows a missed call from home; it lasted four minutes and you were glad for it, and also aware of the distance in a way that does not go away after you hang up. You have started to learn the neighbourhood. You make dinner. The raise is in your account. Twelve years of friendships are in a different time zone, and you have texted two of them this week, and it is not the same as a friend who just drops by.
You named it plainly: the money and the work are genuinely better there, and you would be choosing that over the people who show up when something goes wrong — parents twenty minutes away, twelve years of friendships, the kind of presence that does not translate to a different time zone. That is the actual exchange you are weighing: a better role and a 30% raise on one side, and proximity to the people you rely on in a crisis on the other.
Notice which moments pulled you in and which ones felt off or flat — both are useful. A moment that feels wrong tells you where the sketch missed your actual life; a moment that pulls you in is worth looking at more closely, though a scene can pull because it is unfamiliar or because it is frightening, not only because it is wanted.
“If your parents were not ageing and the friendships would somehow stay as easy at a distance, would the Seattle offer still feel like a hard choice?”
Describe both paths honestly, with real details about what would change and what would stay the same. Which Life? makes each future concrete enough to react to — not a prediction, but a way to notice what actually pulls you toward, or away from, each one.
This is a real, complete tool run against a realistic sample decision. AI-generated narratives — simulations, not predictions or advice. Notice what draws you in, what pushes you away, and what feels wrong.