The tree in the lift

An original imagined literary non-fiction-style account of sharing a lift with a potted tree.

When the lift doors opened, a tree was already inside. Its leaves occupied the upper half of the cabin, and a man in a caretaker's coat stood beneath them with the calm expression of somebody who had brought perfectly ordinary company.

“Room for one,” he said.

I stepped into a small, mirrored woodland. My face appeared between two leaves, then disappeared when the lift began to move. Above the doors, the floor numbers changed with their usual serious attention to progress. The tree, rooted firmly in its pot, rose through the building without making any concession to the idea of travel.

A leaf rested against the rail. Another touched the caretaker's shoulder. He moved it gently before reaching for the button, as though making room for an elderly relative to see the view. There was no view beyond our repeated faces and the bright green fragments which kept interrupting them.

On the fourth floor, the doors opened onto grey carpet. The caretaker guided the pot out on its low wheeled stand. For a moment, the tree filled the doorway like an unusually patient visitor deciding whether to enter a meeting.

Then it was gone. The lift recovered its clean metal shape and my reflection returned without interruption. I travelled one floor farther alone, oddly disappointed to have become the only passenger.

Examine the methods the writer uses to make the encounter with the tree surprising and appealing.