The apartment lobby, a familiar scene, a familiar elevator, but only troubling thoughts consume me. “Has she forgotten me?” I mutter.
In the corner of the elevator floor, normally so clean and undistracting, lies an old banana. Wrinkled, brown, the smell of the air suddenly becomes unpleasant, although mildly.
Why is there a banana here? No. Why would somebody leave a banana in the elevator? I can barely breathe. The tension is exhilarating. I can see all my problems for the farce they truly are. The doors open, and I hurry towards my fresh perspective...
...and also fresh air.