The Elevator: A Short Tale of Terror

The elevator stopped and stuck just short of my floor…damn it, why of all days?

It jolted for a moment, like a loose shoe with a broken lace

and then moved back into position and the door opened to let me spill out onto my floor….

I was ready to spill; I had too many groceries and today had been a jungle;

and spill, I did, like rotten cabbages from a farm truck–

tossing my sacks of precious purchases all over the place.

“Here, let me help…” someone said in a voice like silk on a wound,

and a hand reached from behind me from the elevator to keep me from another tumble…

“Funny…”, I thought to myself, “I thought I was alone on that elevator….”

“It happens–you’ll be fine”, he smiled through lips as white as chalk on a rotting bone,

“You won’t need these anymore”

….And the lights flickered and were gone.

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