Claudia Presto

Follow the blue brick-patterned rug to Elevator G. Press the button for the tenth floor. Stop at the check-in sign. Wait behind the do-not-cross-this-line sign. Finally, it’s your turn. They strap a white bracelet on you—after you recite the secret passwords: Greta Garbo. 9/18/1905. 3135331.

Then you sit. You bury yourself in your phone, trying not to drink in all the misery around you. Everyone has something. Everyone is waiting. Everyone sits with their head bowed. Three seats down a guy is snoring—rip-ragged, chain-sawing, full-out snoring. No one wakes him.