I was walking downtown and I saw an elevator. I hadn’t noticed it before. The sign said, “Elevator.”

I stepped closer. The fine print said, “Elevator to somewhere.”

The door opened and I stepped in. The door closed.

The panel of choices and buttons and lights displayed ascending possibilities. They went from “Here” to “There” to “School” to “Park” to “Church” to “The Stars” to “The Future” to “Beyond.”

I pushed “Park.” I hadn’t been to a park recently, and thought I’d enjoy the fresh air, trees, shade, grass, flowers, people, children playing, sunlight, life in pause.

The door opened and I stepped out.

It was as I expected and remembered. I enjoyed a piece of afternoon, and turned back to the elevator to choose another floor.

The elevator wasn’t there.

I almost panicked.

I stepped closer to where it had been, and there it was again. I pressed the open button that said, “Open.”

It opened. I stepped inside. The door closed.

I pressed the button that said, “Random.”

I felt vibration in my feet, and the doors opened upon a family dressed for the beach. They crowded in and pressed, “Beach.”

They were like vacation, children dressed skimpy, one with a mask and snorkel and big rubber feet, Mama with a bag of fruit, Daddy with an ice chest, probably a Coleman Cooler.

The elevator stopped, the doors opened, I could see the ocean and the sand, and they piled out, the doors closed, and the elevator said to me in a modulated elevator voice, “Where to next?”

I didn’t realize the elevator could speak, and marveled at technology.

“How about the top?” I suggested.

“Could you be more specific?” the elevator asked, giving choices. “Top of the building? Top of the Mark? Top of the heap? Top of the world? Top of the morning? Top of the universe? Top of…?”

“Top of wherever,” I said.

There was a pause. I could hear wheels turning. I looked at the choices listed by the buttons. There was a button at the bottom that said, “More choices.”

I pushed it. There were more choices. Some were places I had already been. Some were choices I didn’t want to go to. Some I had been to and didn’t want to go back.

I gave up, and said, “Just take me home.”

The elevator said, “Can you be more specific?”