This is how I feel every morning when I take the
elevator 21 floors down, down...
THE elevator continued its impossibly slow ascent. Or at least I imagined it was ascent. There was no telling for sure: it was so slow that all sense of direction simply vanished. It could have been going down for all I knew, or maybe it wasn’t moving at all. But let’s just assume it was going up. Merely a guess. Maybe I’d gone up twelve stories, then down three. Maybe I’d circled the globe. How would I know?
Murakami, Haruki (2010-11-17). Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World (p. 1). Random House, Inc.. Kindle Edition.
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