Like a Mouse

Gray man in an elevator is lost at sea. The doors separate and his legs wobble to right the ship. Stepping aside he examines the illuminated white round buttons and ponders.  It’s 5pm.  Which number? So many were muddled through this 5th day at the doctors.  PSA 2.3, 2:00 appointment, parking spot 1064, room 311, parking garage level 7.  He punches a selection and breaks protocol raising two caterpillar eyebrows speaking directly to the man and woman,  “feel like a mouse…”

“in a maze,” she nodded. They were all going the same way. Home.

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