14.
   I looked down at the flower laying at my feet. Hallelujah, a free rose. Look on the bright side, I thought. I had something to go home with, something pretty and alive, if only for a day or so. I snapped off the stem, slid the rose into my lapel and called the elevator.

   When the doors opened, I was surprised to see it was full again. The occupants were dressed in tuxedos and evening gowns, three important looking men with important looking dates all with cocktails in hand and definitely a cut above the last bunch. The irony pissed me off. I came to this dump yearning for the support of the unwashed masses only to receive their dismissive disdain. They had rebuffed my advances and left me standing alone. So I grumbled and whined and tried to make the best of it. Then the real people make an appearance, God’s chosen, on their way upward to a party in the heavens. They had made a stop to taunt me, to point at the monkey in the cage and laugh.
   The largest one, about three-hundred and-fifty pounds large clutching a woman with hair piled higher than her attitude motioned me in. I was stunned. ‘Once bitten.’ , I thought for a moment but only for a moment. They were all quiet, half smiling at me with open expressions. The elevator doors started to close and the man slid a Fratelli wingtip out to stop them. He smiled warmly, extended a hand and waved me in again. I smiled back. It didn’t look like a trap. What were they going to do, offer me up for sacrifice, throw the peasant into the volcano? The second act had promise.