One day, I stepped into an elevator with a few strangers. It was one of those silent rides where everyone pretends no one else exists. As the doors closed, I felt a sneeze coming. I tried to hold it in, but it exploded out of me like a volcano.
“Bless you,” someone said. I panicked and, for some reason, blurted out, “You too!”
The entire elevator went quiet. I stared at the floor like it held the secrets of the universe, wishing I could teleport out. When the doors finally opened, I power-walked out like I had somewhere very important to be.
Safe to say, I now take the stairs.
