Standing in the metal box half asleep in a daze. Oh why am I here? It’s too early!
Then my body feels a slight shift. The elevator stops and the door opens. With anticipation I look out to see if perhaps something will be different but it’s not. I have been delivered to a reality I find hard to accept. Surely this can not be my floor.
There has to be some mistake. I look at the number on the side. Yes, with great disappointment I discover that this is my stop. In anguish I step off.
Oh there has to be some other way. How long can I keep coming to the same floor doing the same things over and over?
Will it be a year, five years, ten years? Will anything ever change or will I die never knowing anything different?
Am I not already dead?
And so I open the door ahead and begin my day.
Soon I will be too busy to dream. Soon I will be nothing but a human machine lifting and pulling and doing what needs to be done.
Soon, as always I will be exhausted at the end of the day looking forward to the twilight hours when I get up to go to work to ride that elevator half asleep only to be disappointed again when that door opens up.