Fourteenth Floor

The elevator has a particular stench—

wet floor mats and cheap cigars.

Halfway up, the cables gave a shudder

and the lights just quit.

Five seconds of total, velvet black.

The man beside me smelled like peppermint

and a very expensive kind of fear.

Neither of us said a word.

The emergency light flickered on,

dim and red as a dying coal.

I looked at the 'Close Door' button,

gouged by keys until the metal bled.