Chairs for giants.

The building sits around me.
I, tired, sit despite it. In its hollow.
There is wrought iron staircase with one sided railing going up to a door.
The door opens perhaps in some era. The building which houses it has many more, doors and eras.

I crossed through a gate, huge, to get to the chair but the chair I sit on is regular. My extra is only a little extra compared to how those giants would have felt who crossed through these huge gates.

It’s summer, I am bloating. Maybe I will be a giant if I sit here long. I feel gaps widening in my joints, my appendages expanding further. I have heard them (those who say) say our entrails can travel the world twice over, so the viscera (as it were) shouldn’t be trouble.
Then perhaps this building will make sense. But the timings are till 7pm. What will I do afterwards?