Elizabeth Lost Her Paper Knife
Elizabeth was alone in the elevator. She tried to fix her make-up as the cat was nagging the whole morning. She entered in ample open space, her agency. She noticed she was alone. No one has started with work yet.
He walked around for a little while to see how millennials' cubicles looked. Almost every cubicle was different. Some looked sterile, empty, just screen and keyboard; others seemed like living rooms, another like a pet sanctuary office—so many colors. Probably every member of a team agency has its color.
Elizabeth looked through the window. 68th floor is good enough for a view, crossed her mind. Manhattan was beautiful from this height. Almost beautiful as on the sidewalk. Yellow cabs, horns, busy people. Beautiful people.
She entered her office. Only closed office on the floor. Sunny office, with a big desk and many cups on it. All cups were full of different crayons, pencils, and fountain pens.
She sat and opened the post that had arrived in the last few days. First, the two envelopes were very thin and easy to open. The third envelope was, well, thick and funny with a lot of flowers hand drawn on it. She knew Mathilda had sent it.
She started to look where her paper knife was. It was not in any cup. She noticed it was on the floor near the widely opened window.
She stood to pick it up.
Elizabeth did not see a full metal cup on the floor and stepped on her stern. She lost her balance and started to fall into the window.
She was calm and peaceful as she fell, still holding the envelope in her right hand. Completely peaceful.
