“The house is haunted!”
yelled some old drunk, pointing at his head, pointing at the sky.
We all just kept scurrying on by, off to work.
“He’s right ya know.” I half whisper to a little girl, whose riding a pony on the elavator.
She just kept smiling, humming her song and offered me a swig of root beer. “Well this is my floor!” she announced and handed me the bottle. The doors opened and she and the pony galloped out into a roaring hail of gunfire.
I turned away and the doors closed behind her. Quiet except for the sound of Kenny G sucking for eternity
“I wonder if I should buy a new pair of shoes…” I thought aloud, sipping the warm sweet sassparilla.
On the next floor a kitten got on and sat opposite of me and stared directly a foot or 2 above my head. “Well hello little kitten!” I chuckled - her gaze was unbroken.
We reached the next floor and she padded out into a smartly furnished reception area.
The doors closed as I muttered to Kenny G, “I wonder how she pushes the buttons?”
“Maybe she doesn’t.” said Kenny G.
