Marcus Waiting by the Elevator in the History Museum

Marcus Waiting by the Elevator in the History Museum

I was late leaving my apartment for work and couldn't find my keys. The hallway stretched longer than usual and mixed with the history museum downtown, those dark wood floors and glass cases. Marcus from college was waiting by the elevator, wearing a slightly old-fashioned coat like the portraits we used to laugh at in class, but it was still just him. We were supposed to go out, I think, or maybe we already had. I had the wrong shoes on, sneakers with my work clothes, and felt embarrassed. He took my hand anyway. The elevator was also those museum stairs. I kept wanting to tell him something important and couldn't get the words out. Woke up with that same hollow longing.