Elevator

elevator

Elevator. Ascend. Thoughts of… nothing. Then, a friend. Long ago. Soft, ever-present ache. Vhooooooom…. reflected silence, smooth and cool, the back of my hand against the glass. The past is the past is my mountain, my hill, is an undissolved pill without resolution or hint of an end, remembering faces of long ago friends. BING! This is me. I straighten my dress and step out.

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