I continue my delicate peruse of the “fact” section on the online literary journal Anderbo.com with this response to Anne Fiero’s “L’Elevator.”
Fiero did an amazing job of transporting me into that elevator with her creative language and detail. I felt as if I was there, watching her stretch languidly from across the small space—or perhaps I was watching her movements from the privacy of a security room on the other end of the camera. The image of the way she had once stretched in the studio, picking apples from an invisible tree, paralleled nicely with the display she was giving me and the elevator camera.
Though she is no longer pursuing dancing, she can still connect back to the way she used to feel when dancing in her secret stretch over the railing; maybe connecting back to who she used to be. How might have things turned out if you could have made money doing what it was that once made her feel happy? I felt that the idea that the figures on her computer screen are dancing was an awesome way for this snapshot, created and destroyed in the minutes it took for her to get to her floor, to end and sashay away.