The Dance of the Elevator
https://youtu.be/4CVXQq230Hg The elevator doors opened, and she walked in. She pressed the button for the fifteenth floor and waited for the doors to close. As soon as they did, she leaned her head back against the mirror wall and held onto the handle for support. She was tired, more tired than the day before, and even more than the day before that. It seemed like every meaningless long day morphed into the next. She longed to take off the heels and stifling pressed clothes she wore every day. She looked down at her briefcase and pointy shoes. She closed her eyes, picturing herself living her dream of wearing a different pointed shoe. The elevator began to grow, the mirrored walls expanded, the shiny floor turned into hardwood, the metal handrail morphed into a wooden barre. When she opened her eyes, she was wearing pointe shoes and ballet clothing. Someone sitting behind a large grand piano on the far end of the room st...