The Elevator

Last year in my regular job, my department had to move temporarily from our groundfloor base to the third floor while our work space was refurbished. Most of the time, I took the stairs to reach the third floor. Sometimes, however, I couldn’t be bothered to trudge up six flights of stairs and so I’d take the lift. (It’s what we call elevators in the UK.) I’d stand looking at the display panel as it counted off the floors and then stare at the door waiting for it to open – there was invariably a pregnant pause before it did. While I waited, I’d often wonder, ‘What if the door opens not onto the office but to an alien world?’

This long novella (or short novel) is the result of those musings.

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