Day 11 - A picture of something you hate

The doors slide close. Trapping inhabitants within its walls. Relinquishing all control and relying on man's machinery to work. The walls start to feel as though they are closing in as the machine moves the inhabitants to their destination. Strangers stand together. The probability they will leave the machine as strangers is high. The possibility they will be stuck together can be frightening. Watching the light move horizontally, silently praying as though each lit circle is a bead on one's rosary, hoping that the doors will re-open and let air into the chamber. Usually no longer than 2 minutes of anxiety, yet feels like a life time. Elevators, I hate you.