The Elevator Doors

Every day we get in an out of elevators for one reason or another.   When the doors close, as we stand amongst a small group of people, there are a few seconds of awkwardness, anticipation or maybe both?  The other people standing in the elevator with you, awkwardly waiting for the “ding” of their floor… what are their stories?  Did they just come from an intense business meeting,  were they doing dirty things in a hotel room or an office?

I began pondering this after my own experience recently in a midtown hotel.  You called me early in the am and asked me to meet you at a hotel in Midtown at a certain time.  It was close to your office, you said.  You told me to get a key from the front desk and go straight up to the room.  The cleaning crew was out in full force, preparing for the change over of guests.  Another text comes in.  It reads ” get undressed.”  Off come the closes, though I keep my boots on. I stand there watching myself in the mirror, waiting for you.

The door opens.  I admit it, I am wet with the anticipation and your dominance.  Its so unlike you.

30 minutes later we part.  The satisfaction is our secret.  What happened is our secret.

The elevator doors open.  I smile at everyone as it goes down.

Music mood:  the sound of your voice.

Neurally yours,

the secretary xo 

I'm a writer and a lover not a fighter, except if I really want something.

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