Miami, Florida. November 2010.
The elevator flies up a cold monolith in a tropical city.
A woman's voice announces the thirty-sixth floor through a speaker
the doors ding open.
Quiet halls, closed doors. Half-finished food and yesterday's newspapers.
The room is sterile and automated, lights and all, but not uncomfortable.
You watch tugboats nudge a massive container ship away from the port.
You toe the glass of the expansive window
feeling the cold and resting your forehead against it, eyes down
imagining the glass bending imperceptibly against your weight.