The down arrow gently pulsed. I could have walked, but 29 floors was a long way and there was no rush. While waiting, I briefly reflected on a job well done, a particularly troublesome loose-end tied up once and for all.
A door clicked shut behind me. I turned to see a figure emerging from the gloom.
It was 4:15 in the morning. Why was she there? I was told nobody would be there.
I smiled and stood to one side as the lift door slowly opened. I wouldn’t get paid double, but when my liberty was at stake, not even money mattered.
These words form this my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.