PASSENGER

Olivia, in the tower, in the top of the tower, speaking into the microphone that broadcast her voice out over the surrounding lands, realized suddenly that she didn’t want to be up there anymore. She had arrived at the tower years earlier, still holding the resume that had gotten her the job, or had at the very least not hurt her chances. She had the idea she’d have to present it as a receipt. That had not been the case. She folded it in half, put it in her jacket pocket, nodded nervously at the woman who had unlocked the door at ground level, smiled nervously at the man who unlocked the door on the first landing. She had the idea she’d see them regularly. She never saw them again. The higher she climbed in the tower, the more it became apparent to her that everything was there: food service, exercise machines, shops, even a regular stream of co-workers who could be friends, bed partners, inspirations, commiserators. They were. She arrived finally at the top of the tower, at her broadcast station, unfolded her resume, taped it to the wall over her desk, and got to work. She read out the news. She read out the weather. She announced holidays. She told jokes now and again. From her vantage she could see down to ground level, and she thrilled to the way people would stop and look up at the tower when they heard her voice. It went this way for years, though a a boom time, a bust time, a war, several severe thunderstorms, one unexpected afternoon of steaming pellet-sized hail, Easters, Christmases, the birthdays of noteworthy scientists, and an abundance of punchlines and puns. One morning she woke up, accepted a kiss from her bed partner, brushed her teeth, walked across the hall to work, started in on the weather (clouds, rain unlikely), and felt something within her both harden and dissolve. She was done. This was it. Time to retire. Time to go back down the tower, all the floors, all the stairs, through that door on the first landing, through the front door, back out into the street, where she could be one of the people who looked up when a voice came from the top of the tower. She took down her resume from the wall, folded it into a paper airplane, and sailed it out the nearest window. 

©2020 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas