I was surrounded by nothing else but sticky air and the sun which had caused it on some early Saturday morning. It could have been Sunday as well, but my thoughts were more focused on trying not to suffocate in the greenhouse that the sixth floor had become. Even during summers in England, apartment blocks turn the idea of heaven and hell upside down. You find that suddenly heaven is very close to the ground, protected from everything that is above, whereas the devilous, hot and burning hell is located further up, the closer you get to the sky as you move upwards. My sizzling skin, that would’ve only been protected by the walls around us if they weren’t purely made out of glass, was desperately waiting for the lift to arrive, so we could easily escape into a small room that appreciates artificial and harmless light for once. As I was feeling small drops of sweat running down my forehead, mixing together with the ones that were about to win the race down my face, the lift’s all too familiar sign finally arrived and relieved me from my foretaste of hell.
Like an animal jumping into the wilderness after finally being set free from its cage, I stumbled into the cold and safe refuge in front of me. Little did I realise that this also meant I might meet other animals in my newfound territory. Some might expect that the fellow passenger should’ve been the one looking confused and a little bit taken aback by my unexpected attack, but the lady in her asian styled bathrobe and frizzy hair à la mad scientist made me stop and take that responsibility off her. After I fulfilled the social protocol of returning her smile, I stared straight onto the floor, only to be blinded by her bare feet that were decorated with purple toenails. Like an explosive, chemical reaction, my head turned immediately upwards and suddenly the ceiling inside the lift appeared extremely fascinating to me. When I thought the lift would be my place of refuge, it rather transformed into a prison filled with embarrassment and awkwardness, with not even a single open window to escape through.
It only took me a couple of seconds to realise how crazy I must’ve looked, staring into the corner of the lift, like a dog barking at the walls in a scene of Paranormal Activity. My phone was dead and we were too close to each other to scroll up and down a fake social media feed, so my options were limited to staring at any spot in the lift that wouldn’t make me look insane or creepily invested in the lady in front of me. What didn’t exactly help to reduce the awkwardness was the fact that my mind was convincing me that she was only covered up by nothing else but the layer of her bathrobe and a confidence I wish I already had at my age. There was no sign of shame written on her face, and her body language indicated that she was just as relaxed as someone who’s just come back from a spa. I’m not sure if she was completely oblivious to the fact that her bathrobe was slightly see-through in all the places it shouldn’t have been, or if she simply didn’t care that not even I was blind enough to oversee it, as much as I wanted to give up on one of my five senses for the time being.
As I was considering to get off a couple of floors earlier to escape my uncomfortable situation, words coming out of the lady’s mouth stopped me from following through. At first I found them too incomprehensible for my brain to register that she was actually speaking to me, but soon after I realised she was just speaking in a Welsh accent. She might not have noticed my sudden surprise, or perhaps she was simply too nice to show that she was offended by my inability to understand her, because she continued talking despite my lack of a socially acceptable response. “I just wanted to go for a smoke before my daughter comes to visit.” She said with her hand slightly hidden in front of her mouth, indicating that her daughter might not exactly be a fan of her mother’s habit. She smiled at me afterwards as if she had just let me in on a secret that she’s never shared with anyone else before. I smiled back at her in approval of her decision, but mostly to show that I was indeed capable of human interaction. “She doesn’t know I smoke.” The lady added straight after to clarify her explanation to the four year old I was being. The wrinkles around her eyes seemed to grow even deeper as I said to her that I too have found the roof garden to be a nice escape, as there are no disturbances or noises other than cars running by. “It’s a good place to read in peace.” I told her in confidence, as if I’ve just revealed the location of a secret, hidden spot. There was still enough time for her to smile back in agreement right before the doors opened again and we went back to our separate lives. I’ve never seen her again since then, but I hope her daughter didn’t find out.
