Elevator Opens Onto Yellow Meadow

The elevator doors parted on floor thirteen instead of the lobby. A meadow stretched out under a flat gray sky, dotted with bright yellow flowers that hummed in low tones. One passenger checked his watch, then stepped onto the soft ground. His shoes left no prints. The next person followed, briefcase in hand, as if this were the usual route. At the center of the field a red telephone booth stood open, receiver dangling. No one spoke. They formed a quiet line.