Groceries up five floors, lift out of service

The notice was taped to the lift door: out of service until further notice. Further notice, in Singapore, can mean anything from four hours to four days. I had frozen fish and I was not waiting. Floor one: fine. Floor two: the railing is sticky. Floor three: someone's curry drifted through the vent. Floor four: my palm had a proper line from the bag handle. Floor five: the landing light flicked on as if it had been watching me struggle. I set the bags down and laughed — not because it was funny, but because laughing is cheaper than crying over thawing seafood. A neighbour opened her door and offered to help. I said no out of pride and then accepted on floor six because pride does not cook fish. We did not exchange names. We did not need to.

Halfway up I counted the bags again — two from NTUC, one from the market with lemongrass poking through the plastic. The lemongrass smelled sharp and alive against the stairwell's stale heat. Someone on floor four was frying something that made the whole landing feel like a kitchen for a minute.

The lift was working again by morning. The notice was gone without apology, which is also a kind of Singapore efficiency. I took the stairs anyway out of habit, and the landing light came on at floor five like nothing had happened.