file under: hypnotised by the tiniest part of the day

going up the subway station's escalator on the way home, i look down just in time to see (stuck in the crevice between escalator plate and topmost stair) one dirty green grape, uncrushed but quite grimy.

as the upcoming steps pass out of sight and into the escalator's inner workings, the edge of each stair gently brushes past the grape, touching it just enough to rotate it along its axis.

i therefore see, as i pass this grape while de-escalating, that it is rolling rolling rolling in place, endlessly, to the sound of the elevator's monotonous rumble.