The Lift 19 Nov 25

The man stepped out. Just as many others had before him. Another approached, things were different to how they used to be. He had eyes now, and a voice when he wanted. Improvements installed by men with the hope that they'd able to talk to other men, women and children, and dogs maybe... sometimes they talked to dogs. They had pierced him with sharp points and hung pictures. A child once called them posters. They changed the posters every now and then. Some posters had dogs on. Sometimes he spoke to the people in the lift. They seemed more annoyed than anything at his attempt at interaction. They thought he was the person controlling the lift. He was lonely. All he could do was go up and down. Occasionally he stopped moving entirely and waited for people to notice. Gosh, they did panic if he stopped when people were going up or down. He was confident that they were safe within and wished they enjoyed the company as much as he did. When he chose to stop. He tried to stop when more than one person was inside, he found the interaction of strangers much more interesting and less shouty. It wasn't their fault they'd stopped after all. Today, he didn't like the look of the person about to step through his doors. They looked unclean and he'd just been polished as part of the daily ritual. He stood open, as he watched the filthy person approach. He watched as they extended a grubby finger towards his nice shiny buttons and pressed the button to go up. He shook the doors, vibrating them menacingly. He took joy in the man's fearful expression and elation as he swiftly exited. He didn't have much control over the people who he allowed to travel, but he could have a little fun