Stories are like maps drawn with words; they give us a path, but the terrain can shift. When we hear a tale that paints a hero’s triumph, we might set our own course toward that outcome, even if the real road is crooked. Narratives also hand us tools—phrases, morals, cautionary symbols—so we decide by recalling the story’s lessons. But sometimes we follow the story too closely and forget the real geography, so the plan turns into a reenactment rather than a genuine journey. In short, stories shape decisions by offering a template, but the trick is to keep the template from turning into a cage.