A day where I was coming home after a long day of uncertainty. Too many factors that seemed to be bringing down the mood. Detouring around the corner to buy food to eat from the grocery store close by, and arriving back to the apartment with a small crowd looking on. Police officers are checking a body on the ground. This man’s eyes and mouth wide open, body twisted, skin cold.
The man jumped.
Aside from the coyote that casually walked past everyone and disappeared into the bushes, the only other thing that caught my attention were stories a man was telling me as we shared the elevator together.
“..People are dying here all the time in the strangest ways it seems. Hell, someone died in this elevator while it was stuck overnight.”
It was a very matter of fact statement considering what just happened, but through my experience I guess I wouldn’t just shrug it off.
Not saying that the elevator is demonic in any way, but it just never works the way you want it to. It’s easy to be uncomfortable with a mechanical device that lifts you up and down, opens up between floors, takes you to the 13th before sending you back down to the 5th. If I’m in it with many other people, regardless of their floors I’m always the last one off. It seems petty, but when the elevator doesn’t do what you ask, it suddenly becomes that ride at Disneyland.
It could be fixed. It tries to be fixed… But the bare minimum only seems to happen. I’ve seen the other building get it’s elevators replaced so I wonder why not this one?
But then I remember about the laundry list of other problems this building has, and I’m perfectly fine with taking the stairs.