lobby
i step onto the elevator
and push for floor 12
a woman in a black dress rushes in and asks for 13
she has red-hair and her perfume smells nice
we wait in silence for the doors to close and begin our ascent

floor 2
i look down at the ragged carpeting
the woman is swiping at something on her phone

floor 5
the elevator is creaking and
i feel myself growing uneasy
i’ve always had an irrational anxiety in elevators
it’s fine, stop freaking out.

floor 7
i catch myself bracing for the elevator to crash
for the doors to glue shut
or for the ride to suddenly turn turbulent
and drop hundreds of feet

floor 8
if the elevator wouldn’t open
would we become friends while we waited for maintenance?
would i get to know this rose-scented woman?
or if the elevator falls
would it feel fast or like slow motion?
would i die?
would this woman die?
am i the last person she will ever see?
i think i could survive the impact if i jump right before it lands like in that one youtube video.
should i ask for her name in case?
it’s more humane that way.
but it's easier to grieve when you don’t know someone.
the awkward silence between two strangers on an elevator would be a weird last memory.
the elevator brakes abruptly
my grip tightens around the handles
is this it? is this the end?
should i ask this woman where she got her perfume from?
it wouldn’t matter–i’d be dead anyway!
fuck, i knew i should’ve taken the stairs.

ding!

floor 12
the doors open and i walk out
the smell of roses lingering behind me