As I returned from lunch today, I looked up while riding the elevator and noticed a perfect handprint on the stainless steel just above the inside of the elevator door. It was so clear I could almost make out the whorls in the fingerprints.
Stuff like this fascinates me-- whose handprint is that? Why was their hand there? It wasn't in a spot likely to be touched, not even by a repairman; nor would it have been a likely spot for the disfiguration-defying practice of sticking one's hand in to keep the doors from closing.
So... why was the print there? Was it some sports-enthused male with a teenager's mindset, (which sounds somewhat like me!) reaching up to slap the door on the way out, like an imaginary backboard? Was it a repairman reaching up to brace himself while working on some other part of the elevator? Or was it someone bracing themselves while having a quickie with a co-worker? (It would have to be quick, as there are only 3 floors!).
Sadly, I will never know. Like the footprints in the sand from Longfellow's The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, this traveller will pass on and with the next swipe of Windex the handprint will be lost forever.....
So... why was the print there? Was it some sports-enthused male with a teenager's mindset, (which sounds somewhat like me!) reaching up to slap the door on the way out, like an imaginary backboard? Was it a repairman reaching up to brace himself while working on some other part of the elevator? Or was it someone bracing themselves while having a quickie with a co-worker? (It would have to be quick, as there are only 3 floors!).
Sadly, I will never know. Like the footprints in the sand from Longfellow's The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, this traveller will pass on and with the next swipe of Windex the handprint will be lost forever.....
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