If you discovered, walking the wild, remote forest, an elevator that went down, according to the buttons, 200 floors, would you get on the elevator? Would you go all the way to the bottom? Or would you just walk away into the forest?
Somewhere, in the deeps woods, a giant tree has fallen. The sound was deafening, but not to anyone. No one heard. At the very top of the tree, riding it all the way down, screaming in terror, was a lizard. It had never screamed before, but it screamed then, though you wouldn't have heard it, had you been there, because the tree was so loud. In the end the lizard scampered away. It stayed close to the ground for the rest of its short life, but it never lost its tail. But that's another story.
I have to admit, a thrill of regret filled me as the doors closed out the forest sunlight. Floors are sliding by slowly as we descend. I am crowding back against the back wall, eyes glued to the seam between the two doors. My heart is starting to pound.
Hello, friends. I hope you're well.