Thomas lived on floor 6-a24:Seg7.

It was a good floor.

He was on his way home, finished with the day’s explorations, but he still had a few errands to run before his day was over. He got on the elevator. Inside, where there would normally be a single panel for numbers to one side of the door, there were, instead, two large, complicated panels, on both sides.

The left panel displayed an alphabet and, beneath it, three rows numbered one through ten. Each of these three were also numbered one, ten, and one hundred, respectively. Beneath this was a dial, like a combination lock, with two rings. The interior had five shapes; a dot, line, triangle, square, and a circle. The outer ring was, again, numbered.

The second panel had a row numbed one through ten as well, but beneath it was a pair of buttons, one blue, one green, and a series of levers. Each of these levers had labels with the symbols for addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. Along side this was a red knob marked with back and forth arrows.

The complexity of these did not surprise, or bother, Thomas. He pulled a dog-eared notebook from his pocked, consulted it, and began pushing buttons and flicking switches. A moment later and the doors slid shut. The only indicator of movement was the smooth jazz that started playing.

It took longer than a normal elevator ride; about three minutes. His destination was floor 53-h87:Seg7, a grocery store. He walked in, grabbed a cart, and started shopping.


A strange building, stretching across the cosmos, a lone inhabitant, and some unconcerned cats. An odd existence is explored in Eternivator. Sign up to read the whole thing.