In the Box

Rayson Tan on Unsplash

Riding the elevator up, Ernest dried his palms on his shirt. ‘Is it me? Or is it always this difficult?’

It had been years. They never communicated. Would his father even be there? He almost stopped his ascent into the forbidden zone.

Elevators terrified him. Could anyone design a better place to make one feel isolated and alone? Ernest hoped not.