The Lift

There were two lifts in that building.

In front of one of the lifts, there was a blue chair, that cheap plastic variety I would have bought if I were a slum dog.

The chair was facing the lift as if they were engaged in an infinite conversation. The other lift seemed to be working and a yellow flash of light showed that it was coming down.

The lift opened, I said second floor to the lift operator, went to where I wanted to go, and climbed the stairs down as the lift had no buttons. The only sure destinations were the top floor and the ground floor.

As I made my exit, I saw a man lying on a tree branch. The tree did not have much leaves and the trunk was dark.

I thought of cutting one of the branches, or simply pushing the man down. Then I decided to walk towards the left from where a strong smell of fried fish was wafting in.