Ficlets

Elevator

The lifts in my building are notoriously slow but I don’t have to wait long today. I jump in and stand to one side, I’m going down to the basement for the canteen, but no one else has pressed the basement button, so I assume they’re getting off on the ground floor to brave the rain.

No one talks in these elevators, and if they do they whisper as not to be overheard. It’s funny how we all work in the same building and yet I don’t know anyone I ever see in these lifts. I look straight ahead and notice this young woman, idly looking at the floor, waiting for her floor to get off at. I doubt she’s noticed me, why would she? Most people in my office are smart, but I don’t have to be smart, so I’m wearing an old T-shirt with a tank and a little man shouting “To the pub!â€? on it and my tatty but comfortable 501’s.

We arrive at the ground floor and everyone leaves except me, as the girl leaves she looks up from the floor, smiles straight at me and walks out of the lift.

This story has no comments.