Marta took her last breath of fresh air as the lift doors closed. Her next inhalation was tainted with the sweat of other workers who, like her, had indulged in a few hours of exercise and activity before returning to their homes in Cheapside. One young man added to the fumes with his own loud flatulence, but at least he had the civility to blush deeply and mumble an apology.
Fortunately the doors swept open moments later, and the stale recycled air of Cheapside replaced the eau de humanity. With practiced ease Marta and the other denizens half floated, half danced down the nondescript corridor, saying a casual goodnight to neighbors and friends as they found the numbers on the doors which were the only differentiation between the individual spaces.
The steam shower felt heavenly. She had splurged on a little bottle of lilac scent, and she left the door separating her bathroom from the rest of the apartment open so that the smell would fill the small space. Wrapping herself in her best fluffy towel, she dialed her window to look out from an earth-side farmhouse window at a row of familiar lilacs. She watched the pastoral scene as she combed and braided her hair. It was hard to catch, but she knew exactly where the loop restarted. The slightest breeze ruffled the bushes, and there was a split second where the sway was ever so slightly interrupted.
Two more months. Soon, very soon, I’ll feel that breeze again.
This was written in response to the Write on Edge prompt about location. We only had 250 words, and I used every last one of them!
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