This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “The Gravity Of Imagination” Down in the Dirt, v203 (1/23) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Forbidden Library the Down in the Dirt Jan.-April 2023 issues collection book		get the 420 page Jan.-April 2023 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

Order this writing in the book the 2024 flash fiction date book (the 2024 flash fiction and art weekly paperback book)		get the 140-page prose & art weekly planner as a 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Not Now!

Margaret Elizabeth Brook

    There are six other people in the elevator, no one looks at anyone else, but I take a quick furtive glance at my fellow passengers, trying not to make eye contact. I know the rules, caught up we are, for a few brief moments as we travel to our next destination. I’m headed to the 65^th floor, I hope we won’t have a lot of stops along the way. No one looks familiar, but why should they? This is one of the tallest buildings in the world, everyone is a stranger. The cage moves swiftly, on magic wings I always think to myself each morning. I don’t really like elevators, but this one seems fool proof. I’m not crazy about my job, sitting at a desk for 8 hours every day. I can’t wait until I get something better, something, I don’t know, more exciting? I know I deserve more than this.
    But suddenly everything is off kilter, the cage tips to one side, then another. I try to grab the wall near me. This can’t be happening, I can’t deal with this. The tall man next to me catches my eyes in his.
    “I’m sure we will be....” He starts to reassure me, I guess. But all at once we stop moving altogether, and everyone gasps, as if we are all reading from the same script in a horror movie, except this is real, too real.
    “What next?” asks a woman who looks a few years older than me. She wipes a tear from her eye, her hand is shaking. And I thought I was the only one with elevator-phobia.
    Suddenly the man standing next to me attempts a smile. “My goodness folks, let’s just ring the call button! What were we thinking of? Or not thinking. They will get us out of here in a jiffy!” He sounds like the Midwest. I always think of folks like that as common sense, we can get it done. Why didn’t I think of the call button? He presses it, we wait. There is no response, none. I thought someone was supposed to be on the other end to ask, what’s your problem?
    “Has anyone else had something like this happen before, here?” asks a thirty-something guy wearing wire glasses.
    “No!” Reading from the same script again, four people answer the question at once.
    Time hangs in the air, the same as the elevator car. Only time seems more permanent. The car is hanging by a flimsy thread and its fate, and mine, are about to snap. I can hear everyone breathing, no one says a word. Time goes by, but it seems like it doesn’t. We are frozen in fear. Stuck in the shaft. With no one to rescue us. The other woman is crying now, quietly. She sinks down to the floor.
    All at once the car is plummeting down, we are in free fall. Our fate unknown. Again, reading from the same script, I hear a chorus of voices calling out. This time it’s The Lord’s Prayer. I join in. “Thy will be done, on earth, as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, Our daily bread.”
    And then I realize, I’m such a fool, I can’t waste my time wishing for something else. I was living in the golden years.... Oh, not now, don’t let it end here! This is golden, I want today, September 11, 2001, not tomorrow. If we can just get out of this cage alive.
    “For Thine is the Kingdom. And the Power and the Glory....

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...