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Flash fiction · From the Margen catalogue

The Lift

The lift in my building has one more button than there are floors. Nobody ever presses it.

Last night, tired, I pressed it without thinking. The doors closed and the lift went down far further than it should, far further than the building is tall.

When they opened, I said good evening out of habit. On the other side, a crowd of people who hadn't seen me in years said it back, delighted.