I fell in love in the elevator. And then the suspension broke and we were cast into free-fall. The dark-haired girl I loved came to me, and we embraced as the cage plummeted toward what must be destruction. As we kissed, I saw stars exploding within some kind of living storm. I whispered gently to her that the world was a flower and her love like the sun. She smiled, and my heart blossomed into petals whose fires were a kind of literature that only angels could read. Suddenly, the elevator began to slow. The door opened on some floor that was not marked. As it did, I saw beyond it a vast audience, and they began cheering, rising to their feet, and screaming, calling, whistling. The girl took a bow, and I began to evaporate. Soon, there was nothing left of me but wisps of smoke… a sort of vapor… and my love for the actress who had been my confidante during the death-drop. The scene tilted suddenly, as if to spill its contents into the void, and then everything disappeared. It wasn’t black, or grey. It wasn’t anything at all. It was simply… gone.