Joy on the Low

An open letter to that guy who showed me God in the stairs that one time.

The elevator in my office building has been out of order for two weeks. Technically, only one of them is out of order, but the other one stops one floor short of the top floor. And my office is on the top floor, right next to an accident clinic—one of those spots that does physical therapy for people who were in car crashes. So there’s two ways to get t…