I had come home to the luxury high rise where I was living to change my shoes because I felt self-conscious that they did not go with the outfit I was wearing and that the flat soles made me feel short.
I was waiting at the elevators when two or three arrived at the ground floor at the same time.
I walked over to the one on the right and was startled by a man walking off pushing a trolley, a mobile type of filing system for folders, so I moved out of his way and proceeded to enter another one of the available elevators where I was the only passenger.
As the elevator began to descend (someone had apparently called the elevator from the basement), I noticed the doors had remained open so I made sure to stand at the back of the elevator.
No one got on in the basement and before I had the chance to get off and change cars, the elevator started ascending quickly and in a matter of seconds arrived at my floor and I stepped off.
Next, I was at home in the apartment in Chicago on Rosemont Avenue, where I lived as a child, when my neighbor knocked on the door.
The neighbor was an acquaintance, Antonio, who told me he was renovating his apartment and had found a box of old things he thought I might be interested in.
I walked downstairs and the first thing I noticed was a massive hole in the ceiling just outside of my neighbor's front door, which I found very peculiar.
Once inside the apartment, I observed the place had been gutted and there were drop cloths, scaffolding and construction material everywhere.
Antonio emerged with a cardboard box which contained three old, rotary-dial telephones.
He showed me the phones and invited me to choose the one I liked best so I chose a dark green one.
Then I woke up.
*Originally manifested on October 1, 2020.
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