Two people are stuck in an elevator.
One is a young woman who is dressed smartly. She has on a wireless earpiece and speaks in brisk, had-her-coffee-this-morning quips.
The other is an attractive man of equal age. He too, is dressed smartly, with his eyes reading over the side of the elevator for the umpteenth time.
She didn’t even bother to say good morning.
They are taking the elevator to different floors. He, the 8th. For her, the 9th floor was her destination.
They wait impatiently and don’t make eye contact. The machination reaches the 3rd floor and their wait prolongs. The elevator is slow to open, close, rise and fall.
It is an old building.
Their journey is visited by the entries and exits from other building-people, more waiting.
On the 5th floor they are alone and as the door slugs shut there is a buzz, a flash of light and then a plummet.
Well, not a plummet, more like jagged bobs until the metal cage clangs to a stop near the 2nd floor.
Both are now clutching one another, almost instinctively. Her fragrance relaxes him and he smiles. She sees his smile and relaxes herself and at that point, they realize their intimate predicament.
His smile turns her fear to vapor, he laughs nervously and they let go of each other. She gets up without his help and presses the alarm. She sets herself down to sit next to him and he accommodates.
Shoulders touching, with eye contact and hushed conversation, they wait.
Half an hour passes and they are helped out of the rickety machine by the building’s engineers. The hushed conversations continue as they continue their trip up the old building, this time taking the stairs.