Tuesday, February 17, 2004
The lifts at work are like miniature Underground trains: edgy silences; bowed heads; no eye contact; surreptitious check outs of one’s own reflection; loud conversations between intimates creating fascinated curiosity and acute discomfort in equal measure.
And all the time I think of hitting the "Open" button every time the doors start to close, as if to help out a constant stream of invisible newcomers. And I start to smile. And that’s taboo. And I have to stifle my choked laughter.
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And all the time I think of hitting the "Open" button every time the doors start to close, as if to help out a constant stream of invisible newcomers. And I start to smile. And that’s taboo. And I have to stifle my choked laughter.
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