You’re stuck in an elevator with a person from your past.
Write this scene.
"Awesome," - her inner voice was poisoned with sarcasm. - "Today is definately not YOUR day, Sam. You were late for work, spoiled your best blouse with coffee, and now... Being stuck in a small dark elevator with him. Nice."
- An unexpected stop, - his voice, low and harsh, typical for heavy-smokers, sounded scary to her. - Lucky, I don't hurry anywhere. And you?
Her eyes, which she has closed to adjust to a sudden darkness, immediately opened, when she heard him talking to her.
- No...I don't, - answered she softly, trying to see his silhouette in the corner of the elevator, but failed.
- Nice. I heard you've been already late today, huh? - it seemed to her she could almost physically feel him smiling ironically at her, so she decided that there would be no reply to that. She put her red umbrella on the floor and scratched her nose instead, something she got used to do, whenever she felt nervous. And she did feel nervous right now, standing so close to him.
He was tall, with strong shoulders and mischievious smile, a little bit older than her. They worked together, she was just a secretary, and his job was connected with computers and computer programmes. But he has never spend much time in the office, he could come and leave his working place whenever he wanted to, like a stray cat. He was the best friend of Sam's boss, who, being so precise and strict about the rules everyone in the office should obey, seemed not to notice that his friend couldn't care less about his duties or even dress-code. Among all the black and white dressed boring people, working there, he, in his ragged jeans and red sneakers, looked like a thin ray of sun in a foggy rainy morning. He was smart, his jokes were always funny and he attracted people to himself like a magnet. Every girl in the office wished she could have been on Sam's place right now. But she didn't like that situation at all, because everytime he was around her, he made her feel nervous and uncomfortable. She didn't want to admit the fact that she liked him in a way someone likes and admires a person, who has strength and will to do things you never even dare think of. He was alive, and she was black and white and boring. And she hated that.
- Well, maybe we should do something? - she broke the silence first and immediately felt an urge to slap herself in the face for that.
- Like what? - his voice was filled with irony.
"You are not a small stupid girl, Sam," - she heard her inner voice trembling with displeasure. - "Don't allow him to talk to you like that".
- Press the buttons, for example, - she replied bitterly. - I don't know, it's you, who knows how to deal with gadgets.
She heard him moving, but she couldn't see, what he was doing.
- It's not a gadget, Sam, - he said patiently, still producing some noise. - It's an elevator of the biggest business-centre of the city. Sooner or later it will work again.
Suddenly there came light. Sam closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, she could see him smiling at her. The mild light, which was produced by the fire of his cigarette lighter, was dancing in his dark blue eyes.
- I don't like it, when I can't see the face of a person I'm talking to, - explained he to Sam in a plain tone. - Now it's better, right, Sam?
"No, it's worse", - she thought, feeling goosebumps on her skin.
- And...how, how do you know my name? - she asked him before she had a chance to think that question over.
- We're working together, Sam. Remember? - his indulgent tone hurted her a bit. - I work with every laptop in the office. Yours is very interesting.
She bit her lower lip, thinking his words over. A sudden thought, which came to her mind, made her almost scream at him.
- What did your read there?!
He smiled again, then turned off and turned on his lighter again.
- Read? Me? - he asked, looking surprised. - I haven't read anything there. I just wanted to say that those selfies with you and your cat are kinda cute.
She felt her cheeks turned red.
- Well, thanks. - she snapped, avoiding his eyes.
He kept silent for a couple of minutes, and then he turned off his lighter and took her shaking hand in his.
- I lied, - he said quietly. - I've read that...what you're writing, you know.
Sam felt like the air in her lungs suddenly vanished, so she instinctively squeezed his hand and made a deep breath.
- No one knew it. No one was supposed to know. No one..., - she whispered frantically, still holding his hand. - How dare you...?!
- And how dare YOU to keep your unfinished novel at your working laptop? - he said. - Everyone could have read it there. If it's so precious to you, then you should have kept it at home.
Sam felt an urge to slap him in the face too.
All her life she dreamt to become a writer. It wasn't her only talent, though, but writing was the only thing, which brought her joy and made her happy. She has been working on her first novel for three years already, and she kept a copy of that document at work, because inspiration is an unexpected thing, and she sometimes had a need for writing some things at work, when she was not busy.
And he read it.
The most horrifying person in the whole office has read her work.
Now it was he, who broke the silence first.
- I'm sorry, Sam.
- Shut up.
- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.
She heard him breathing heavily.
- The only thing I can add that...I've read it till the end, your novel. And I liked it.
She looked at him, but couldn't see his face in the darkness. His voice lacked irony and sarcasm now. It sounded...normal, and it was strange and unfamiliar to hear him talking to anyone like that.
- I've spent four hours there, reading it. And I was surprised, you know, I thought you are only good at making coffee. And I was mistaken. You are smart and talented. Such a job isn't for you.
Her eyes were filled with tears, when the light turned on and an elevator, with a squeaky sound, went down. She looked straight in his eyes, trying to see his mischievious smile again, but his face remained serious.
- And what is for me, then? - she asked him, her lips were dry and trembling.
- Writing, - his answer was simple, his smile was nice and warm this time. - You are a dreamer, Sam. Don't give up on it.
The elevator stopped, its metal doors opened slowly, when he picked up her umbrella and gave it to her. They left the elevator and then the building together.
The sky above them was darkish grey, and it was raining a bit.
- I hate such a weather, - he said, not looking at Sam. - You're lucky to have a big umbrella.
Before she found some strength to reply, he has already left the porch, heading somewhere.
- See you tomorrow, Sam! - she heard him saying.
She stood on the porch for a moment, then sat on the step and pulled a piece of paper and a pencil out of her bag. She desperately needed to write something down right now.
Write this scene.
This is a May 28 task.
But I desperately needed to write that story down.
This isn't for me this time.
I hope, you will enjoy it ^^
The light turned off, when the elevator, with a terrible noisy sigh, stopped.
"Awesome," - her inner voice was poisoned with sarcasm. - "Today is definately not YOUR day, Sam. You were late for work, spoiled your best blouse with coffee, and now... Being stuck in a small dark elevator with him. Nice."
- An unexpected stop, - his voice, low and harsh, typical for heavy-smokers, sounded scary to her. - Lucky, I don't hurry anywhere. And you?
Her eyes, which she has closed to adjust to a sudden darkness, immediately opened, when she heard him talking to her.
- No...I don't, - answered she softly, trying to see his silhouette in the corner of the elevator, but failed.
- Nice. I heard you've been already late today, huh? - it seemed to her she could almost physically feel him smiling ironically at her, so she decided that there would be no reply to that. She put her red umbrella on the floor and scratched her nose instead, something she got used to do, whenever she felt nervous. And she did feel nervous right now, standing so close to him.
He was tall, with strong shoulders and mischievious smile, a little bit older than her. They worked together, she was just a secretary, and his job was connected with computers and computer programmes. But he has never spend much time in the office, he could come and leave his working place whenever he wanted to, like a stray cat. He was the best friend of Sam's boss, who, being so precise and strict about the rules everyone in the office should obey, seemed not to notice that his friend couldn't care less about his duties or even dress-code. Among all the black and white dressed boring people, working there, he, in his ragged jeans and red sneakers, looked like a thin ray of sun in a foggy rainy morning. He was smart, his jokes were always funny and he attracted people to himself like a magnet. Every girl in the office wished she could have been on Sam's place right now. But she didn't like that situation at all, because everytime he was around her, he made her feel nervous and uncomfortable. She didn't want to admit the fact that she liked him in a way someone likes and admires a person, who has strength and will to do things you never even dare think of. He was alive, and she was black and white and boring. And she hated that.
- Well, maybe we should do something? - she broke the silence first and immediately felt an urge to slap herself in the face for that.
- Like what? - his voice was filled with irony.
"You are not a small stupid girl, Sam," - she heard her inner voice trembling with displeasure. - "Don't allow him to talk to you like that".
- Press the buttons, for example, - she replied bitterly. - I don't know, it's you, who knows how to deal with gadgets.
She heard him moving, but she couldn't see, what he was doing.
- It's not a gadget, Sam, - he said patiently, still producing some noise. - It's an elevator of the biggest business-centre of the city. Sooner or later it will work again.
Suddenly there came light. Sam closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, she could see him smiling at her. The mild light, which was produced by the fire of his cigarette lighter, was dancing in his dark blue eyes.
- I don't like it, when I can't see the face of a person I'm talking to, - explained he to Sam in a plain tone. - Now it's better, right, Sam?
"No, it's worse", - she thought, feeling goosebumps on her skin.
- And...how, how do you know my name? - she asked him before she had a chance to think that question over.
- We're working together, Sam. Remember? - his indulgent tone hurted her a bit. - I work with every laptop in the office. Yours is very interesting.
She bit her lower lip, thinking his words over. A sudden thought, which came to her mind, made her almost scream at him.
- What did your read there?!
He smiled again, then turned off and turned on his lighter again.
- Read? Me? - he asked, looking surprised. - I haven't read anything there. I just wanted to say that those selfies with you and your cat are kinda cute.
She felt her cheeks turned red.
- Well, thanks. - she snapped, avoiding his eyes.
He kept silent for a couple of minutes, and then he turned off his lighter and took her shaking hand in his.
- I lied, - he said quietly. - I've read that...what you're writing, you know.
Sam felt like the air in her lungs suddenly vanished, so she instinctively squeezed his hand and made a deep breath.
- No one knew it. No one was supposed to know. No one..., - she whispered frantically, still holding his hand. - How dare you...?!
- And how dare YOU to keep your unfinished novel at your working laptop? - he said. - Everyone could have read it there. If it's so precious to you, then you should have kept it at home.
Sam felt an urge to slap him in the face too.
All her life she dreamt to become a writer. It wasn't her only talent, though, but writing was the only thing, which brought her joy and made her happy. She has been working on her first novel for three years already, and she kept a copy of that document at work, because inspiration is an unexpected thing, and she sometimes had a need for writing some things at work, when she was not busy.
And he read it.
The most horrifying person in the whole office has read her work.
Now it was he, who broke the silence first.
- I'm sorry, Sam.
- Shut up.
- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.
She heard him breathing heavily.
- The only thing I can add that...I've read it till the end, your novel. And I liked it.
She looked at him, but couldn't see his face in the darkness. His voice lacked irony and sarcasm now. It sounded...normal, and it was strange and unfamiliar to hear him talking to anyone like that.
- I've spent four hours there, reading it. And I was surprised, you know, I thought you are only good at making coffee. And I was mistaken. You are smart and talented. Such a job isn't for you.
Her eyes were filled with tears, when the light turned on and an elevator, with a squeaky sound, went down. She looked straight in his eyes, trying to see his mischievious smile again, but his face remained serious.
- And what is for me, then? - she asked him, her lips were dry and trembling.
- Writing, - his answer was simple, his smile was nice and warm this time. - You are a dreamer, Sam. Don't give up on it.
The elevator stopped, its metal doors opened slowly, when he picked up her umbrella and gave it to her. They left the elevator and then the building together.
The sky above them was darkish grey, and it was raining a bit.
- I hate such a weather, - he said, not looking at Sam. - You're lucky to have a big umbrella.
Before she found some strength to reply, he has already left the porch, heading somewhere.
- See you tomorrow, Sam! - she heard him saying.
She stood on the porch for a moment, then sat on the step and pulled a piece of paper and a pencil out of her bag. She desperately needed to write something down right now.
