He shot, too fast, out of the elevator. He saw me, then panicked. With a jerk he shot right, stopped as I backed up, then he almost impaled himself on the water fountain. With the way our two chairs had moved around each other I reached out to him with a joke. "It's almost like wheelchair ballet isn't it?" The response was a big grin.
He opened up immediately.
He was just learning to use the chair.
He said with excitement: I get out on my own now.
He said with pride: I go faster than people who walk.
He said with surprise: It doesn't matter so much that I can't walk any more.
I saw a man with a world newly opened to him. I waved to him as the door of the elevator closed shut. I was going up, he was going somewhere - how right is the world today.