Unless You Have It, You'd Never Understand
The steel sliding doors of the elevator opened before Roland, like the gates to hell. No one was on it and he wasn’t surprised. No one should be here at 7:45 am. The insides were as he expected- as clean and polished as a coffin.
He hesitated too long and the doors began to slide shut. Roland stuck his arm into the closing gap and gritted his teeth. He always expected the doors to close on his arm and slowly grind it off. As always the door disappointed him and bounced away from his outstretched arm as if hitting an invisible force-field. He took a deep breath and cautiously stepped inside.
The floor gently bounced, responding to the weight of his body. Roland didn’t like it. It reminded him that he wasn’t connected to the ground. The doors began to slide shut. His heart raced. If the doors shut, he’d be alone in a box he had no control over. Panicking, he slid a hand into the tiny gap. The doors reopened.
He sighed in relief.
He’d have to take the stairs. To the forty-fifth floor. For an interview.