Stepping into the early morning elevator, I joined the crisp young man already in possession of the space. He announced his authority with a ringing good morning... And didn't remark my flaccid attempt to mirror his enthusiasm. The elevator bulged with his voice: he shouted out "What's that you've got?". I stuttered a feeble synopsis of the fifty-five pages I'd read of the novel in my hand, staccato questions, heavy with sympathy, raining about my head.

The ding sounded. The doors shunted open. Round one complete.

The victor strode away, heels punishing the newly mopped floor. I, clutching my creased little paperback, shambled quietly towards the softly humming coffee machine.

3/29/21