He carried her down the long, florescent-lit hallway to the movers' elevator. He pushed the button and the doors opened. As the elevator climbed to his floor, he stared at the girl's white feet in the orange light of the number buttons. She smelled like flowers. But not the springtime sort. Funeral flowers.
The elevator doors opened and he carried her down the hall, turning around to look behind him when he reached his door. The hall was long and empty. There was a droning sound like a wind blowing.
