The Glass Elevator
A detached man and his wife rekindle romance in a voyeristic trip on an elevator
On the average weekday, at rush hour, the 110 Freeway in Los Angeles averages over 20,000 cars at any given time on the 55 mile stretch. For Phillip Riley, the trip from his job in San Pedro—a small harbor town just south of Los Angeles, to his home in Pasadena took an hour and thirty-seven minutes in gridlocked traffic. Stuck in his car, Phillip would gaze at a glass elevator that rose up and down the exterior of a downt...