true or false;

i could feel my fingers aching, crying out to me to stop. but i couldn’t. i felt as though my arms were about to give way, my brain was screaming for me to take a break, to take it slow and easy, but i told myself no. i had to go on. because if i did not, all my effort the past few weeks would have been for nothing. so i gritted my teeth, and i hammered down. again, again, again. “stop!”, a voice shouted. something snapped, my veins on fire, the beat of the drums echoed in mind, as i fell, somehow everything slowly moving, to the ground.

as i got on the lift, the smell wafted into my nose, almost as rancid as it was pleasant. “these winter clothings are my daughters, and since she can’t fit into them anymore, their just lying around, so i brought them along,” she said to her friend standing beside her. the smell reminded me so much of my grandmother, unexpectedly, and i found myself thinking about chinese new year. “bye,” came her voice, as she said goodbye to her friend on the sixth floor. as the lift door closed, i made my way closer to her.