Saturday, March 5, 2005
Everyone faces forward in the elevator. He stood behind me, his body touching mine. Others crowded in, smells of alcohol, smoke and garlic sickened me. The sinking feeling as we went down floor to floor. Finally, the weight triggered the elevator not to stop at any more floors. We fell in a controlled whirr of machinery. I looked at my companions, my fellow space jockeys, riding down to Mother Earth from the top of the tower. I knew must see them every day. Yet, I recognized no face. Not one. No one spoke. They are too tired. More likely, too afraid of being fished by people lonelier even than they are. Behind me, I felt his hand flickering at my crack. A butterfly butt flutter. Hardly sexual. I almost smiled. Just in time, I swallowed the smile inside my mouth. My trousers were good wool. He’d have to have the fingers of a blind surgeon to arouse me with his touch. I laughed inside, that shaking, bubbling feeling. I never got mad at him. He was after all more than just my boss. He was my husband.
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