During my visit to Mountain View, I stumbled upon a satellite building. In it, I found

the chill of abandoned space: chairs and chairs and chairs: boxes in boxes in boxes: and a handicap door button out of belonging:

This button belongs on the wall, not the floor! Seeing it out of its normal context provoked the question of belonging within me. Do I find myself out of belonging?

Perhaps more kindly, like a traveler lingering aimlessly in the limbo of an airport lounge, we can see the button as in between belongings. In that way, I've never related to a button so hard.