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Writing > Users > Michael K > 2007

Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction


The following is a piece of writing submitted by Michael K on September 28, 2007

Ellie's Frustrating Afternoon

Ellie was frustrated. Life is full of ups and downs, as they say, and in the midst of the roller-coaster we call life, to have a minute or two to simply stop should be a good thing. But stopping in the elevator shaft just below the thirty-seventh floor isn't exactly an ideal condition, and Ellie didn't see it is an opportunity to "smell the roses".

Ironically, one of the people stuck here with her was a florist on his way to make a delivery. He was bringing - yes, you guessed it - roses. But Ellie wasn't interested in smelling them, and couldn't smell them even if she wanted to.

The florist didn't seem to be upset over their predicament. "Nothing to worry about," he assured the other passengers. "Probably a glitch in the computer system running these things. They'll get it fixed in no time."

Ellie thought: Easy for him to say - his job, his livelihood is not dependent on whether or not he gets out of here in the next five minutes. If his flower delivery is a few minutes late, someone MIGHT be upset with him, but he certainly won't lose his job over it. But Ellie didn't say anything at all; she just listened to the others.

A little girl was sitting in the corner, crying. She was by herself, and was feeling a bit claustrophobic, being stuck, as she was, in a small rectangular room with several strangers. The other passengers occasionally glanced at the little girl nervously and uncertainly - obviously there wasn't a parent in the bunch. Platitudes like "Don't worry, it'll be okay," and "Don't cry, little girl," were the only things they could think of to say.

Ellie wanted to shout at them all for their incompetence, she wanted to take the little girl and hold her and comfort her. But she said nothing. She merely waited.

With a soft clicking noise, the intercom system came on, and a voice came through. "Hello folks," the disembodied voice said, "We've found the problem, and the elevator is going to start back up. There may be a small jolt at first, but nothing to worry about. Just hang onto the rails, hang onto each other."

Ellie felt the tension in her companions' grip, and the little girl held onto her with a strength that, Ellie thought, could have twisted a metal bar.

With a jolt the elevator started to move, and the initial startled screams turned into cheers as the elevator slid into its normal, gentle upward movement. The elevator came to a halt on the 37th floor, and when the doors opened, two technicians were standing in the hallway, motioning everyone out.

As the last passenger left, the technicians stepped into the tiny cubicle. One of them put out his hand and stroked the wall of the elevator. "Well old girl," he said, "This is the third time this week. I think it's about time we sent you on to elevator heaven."

"You know, Bob," the other said, "it really creeps me out when you talk to the elevators like that."

"Like what?"

"Like they've got feelings or something."

But Ellie wasn't listening any more; she was too busy weeping oil out of her ducts.

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