Going Up

The doors opened on the 4th floor of the hospital garage, and inside the elevator stood this somewhat beleaguered woman.

"Going up?" I asked, as I took my place in the metal box.

"Yes," she replied, "To the fifth floor."

"Me too! That's where all the cool kids park."

"Well," she grumbled, "Had to park there. All the other spots were taken."

"Yeah, but it's the top level," I said, "You can see the sky instead of the cement ceiling."

"Hmm," she replied. "But it's hot today."

"True," I said, "But if we weren't complaining about the heat, we'd be complaining about the snow."

"You're right on that," she admitted, "I don't like snow."

We exited the elevator and opened the door to the top floor of the garage.

Sunlight streamed towards us, obscuring some of the blight of the inner city.

"Look at that!" she said, "It's a beautiful day!"