LANCE

Lance sprinted down the street towards Sulwyn Tower, skilfully dodging anyone who managed to get in his way. It wasn't until he reached the tower gates that he doubled-over, breathless. He glanced at his watch. It was 10:55.

“Nana? Can I take a picture now?” whined a high voice, “Pleeeeease?” Lance looked over and saw a little girl, no older than seven, reaching for an old lady's camera. The old lady caught his gaze and smiled warmly.

"Excuse me,” she said, “Would you mind taking a picture of us together?”

Lance looked around. Surely she wasn't talking to him. Did he look like he had time to take pictures?

“Sorry,” he said, “I can't.” The old woman's face coloured. She turned away, muttering something under her breath, probably about how inconsiderate he was.

The wrath of a little old lady is nothing compared to the hell I’m going to endure this afternoon, thought Lance grimly, uncomfortably aware that his toupee was askew. Sul-Co’s stocks were plummeting and he was one of the lucky “yes men” assigned the task of telling another batch of colleagues they were fired.

Lance entered the lobby just as the chime sounded signalling the arrival of the eleven o’clock vertical train. He straightened his tie and joined the line of suits filing into the lift. Pulling rank, he stole the choice seat: a high-back leather chair near the right-side window. He took out his PDA and began to check the stocks. Just when he felt like he was making progress, the train lurched upwards. Lance's stomach refused to follow. Nausea clouded his mind, turning the charts and acronyms on his screen into gibberish. A female voice cheerfully addressed the passengers over the crackling intercom: **Hello and welcome to Sulwyn Tower, the highest man-made structure in the world--**

--As if Lance needed reminding. He rode the damn vertical everyday. Stupid architects. They never thought about the people who had to work in their bloody monuments; all they thought about was making things ridiculously big.

**--104 will arrive at level 300 at approximately 11:45. Have a nice day.**

Turning off his PDA, Lance looked out the window, down at the tiny people scurrying about below. How he envied them! They were free. He pressed his thumb up against the glass, pretending to squish them. A haze began to obscure the ground below. Harsh light flooded the vertical. Eyes watering, Lance yanked down the shade. There was nothing more to see.