It lurched upward once, then twice, as it were wedged in a shaft just too small for the car. Amelia wondered if were as simple as the cables rusting or the winches needing grease. But that would be an easy fix. Why would maintenance make such a fuss? In her exhaustion, she hadn’t thought twice about boarding from the ground floor, but as she listened to the elevator strain, she found herself wondering how deep the basement stretched below her.
After a seemingly unending moment, her conveyance reached a more natural and consistent upward motion and Amelia realized she’d been holding her breath. She allowed herself a slight chuckle. The manager is probably just tired of getting complaints about this thing. No wonder they don’t want people using it. Her relief pivoted quickly into agitation. They wouldn’t have complaints if they just fixed the damn thing. Where does my rent go, anyway?
She was in the midst of wondering what had possessed her to rent what was essentially a fifteen-story walkup as the doors dinged open to her floor. Thankfully, the elevator was situated right next to the stairwell door, so she wouldn’t need to get her bearings. Or so she thought. Ouch! She’d collided with a table in the hall just around the first corner.
What the hell? She noticed the familiar passage felt a little... off. The cheery burgundy of the wallpaper was closer to a blood-red. The warm incandescent lights that lined the ceiling where now florescent and flickering. Was it her imagination, or did the hall seem to narrow as it extended? The walls and ceiling looked smaller somehow. I must be more tired than I thought, she tried to convince herself. But at her core, she knew something wasn’t right.
J_E_Warden t1_iw36jxz wrote
Reply to [CW] Follow Me Friday - Elevator by throwthisoneintrash
<2/3>
It lurched upward once, then twice, as it were wedged in a shaft just too small for the car. Amelia wondered if were as simple as the cables rusting or the winches needing grease. But that would be an easy fix. Why would maintenance make such a fuss? In her exhaustion, she hadn’t thought twice about boarding from the ground floor, but as she listened to the elevator strain, she found herself wondering how deep the basement stretched below her.
After a seemingly unending moment, her conveyance reached a more natural and consistent upward motion and Amelia realized she’d been holding her breath. She allowed herself a slight chuckle. The manager is probably just tired of getting complaints about this thing. No wonder they don’t want people using it. Her relief pivoted quickly into agitation. They wouldn’t have complaints if they just fixed the damn thing. Where does my rent go, anyway?
She was in the midst of wondering what had possessed her to rent what was essentially a fifteen-story walkup as the doors dinged open to her floor. Thankfully, the elevator was situated right next to the stairwell door, so she wouldn’t need to get her bearings. Or so she thought. Ouch! She’d collided with a table in the hall just around the first corner.
What the hell? She noticed the familiar passage felt a little... off. The cheery burgundy of the wallpaper was closer to a blood-red. The warm incandescent lights that lined the ceiling where now florescent and flickering. Was it her imagination, or did the hall seem to narrow as it extended? The walls and ceiling looked smaller somehow. I must be more tired than I thought, she tried to convince herself. But at her core, she knew something wasn’t right.
(WC: 297)