An empty elevator comes to life,
obliterating what history of SILENCE it contained in moments
Engage. A low hum accompanies
upward motion -- wheels turning, cables straining, belts rolling
out to be gathered up elsewhere.
1...2...3...all the way to the
7th floor. LEDs announce although there is no one to see them.
DING! The elevator door SLIDES OPEN,
revealing a disgruntled face, eyes rolled upward, face slack.
Meet M. M for Middle Manager, M for
"Meat Puppet," M for MURMUR -- an INTESTINAL GRATING
that now fills up the elevator.
TAP-TAP-TAP, a thrice-jammed finger
attempts to coerce the elevator to a new destination:
the first floor.