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Jan 5, 2005 | The Elevator

“Delightful stuff”, she said without emotion, savouring the melting chocolate in her mouth. Reaching over the low table, she picked another piece from the box that lay open before her, the chocolate nestled among the golden wrapping like brown jewels. She shifted her eyes to the window, seeing the city skyline becoming darker by the minute.

He sat across from her, quiet and drunk. He was always drunk, especially in the evenings. She had fallen in love with him for his looks; he had returned the favor by falling into an endless binge.

“Do you want to go to Marty’s tomorrow night?”, he said. The smell of alcohol was evident.

Without taking her eyes off the sight outside her window, she replied absent-mindedly,


So much for a conversation.

“If you don’t feel up to a conversation, I’ll leave” he said, reading her mind.

“It’s alright”

She remembered the days gone by. The trip to the beach. The letters. The flowers. Always a kiss. Now it was placid, dead. He had even forgotten her birthday the week before. No sign of remembering it, even now. Why are guys able to forget what they want to forget so easily?, she wondered. She even suspected that the faint foreign perfume was not as innocent as the crowded bus ride that he had mentioned. She was going to break the ice and tell him what it was she had on her mind, that she didn’t want to continue this lame relationship, that she was better off without him, that she didn’t want his drunken presence in her apartment, when he abruptly stood up. She lost her train of thought. He wiped off the crumbs off his pants, scattering them over the carpet like small animals.

“I gotta head home. I’ll take a shower and meet you at the bar at 7, kay?” He smiled slightly.

“Sure”, she responded, getting up. “Thanks for coming.”

She stood at a distance, arms crossed, as he took his leather coat from the hanger in the entrance, fitted his shoes, and opened the multitude of locks that decorated the white frame of the door. Ever since the burglar had broken in, how long ago was it?, she had been paranoid about keeping her door locked. It was only because of him that she refrained from pushing a large wooden wardrobe against the door each night.

“See ya later”, he said, looking at her as she stood, shoulder against the wall of her apartment door. He pushed the up and the down elevator button. He would joke that doing that would get both elevators, saving time. Except that there was only one elevator. She preferred to roll her eyes each time he shared the joke. After a small pause, the elevator door opened, and he kept his blue eyes on her as he stepped into the elevator shaft.

She cocked her head slightly to the right, and after a while, smiled to herself and said to the elevator doors that were beginning to close,

“See ya.”

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 5th, 2005 at 7:44 pm, EST under the category of Writings. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.