The elevator door shut slowly behind Mirela. She waited in the car for a stranger on some other floor to press the up or down button.
Scanning the small square of space, she observed the stains on the burgundy, patterned carpet, the bronze railings tarnished in the places where they were used the most, the scratches on the mirror, and in the mirror-herself.
She stroked the small scar hidden by her eyebrow, the ridge of her nose, her lips, and her jaw-line. Then she imagined the countless wounds and flaws that were invisible to the eye, yet existed inside of her. In this moment, she realized why she had chosen this town as her home. She had something in common with this unpolished town. She was comfortable amongst imperfection.
Closing her eyes, Mirela filled her lungs with a large amount of air and then released it. She did this several times before the room subtly began to lower. She opened her eyes and saw that one of the yellowed buttons was lit.
When the doors opened, a some-what scruffy, yet attractive older man stood in front of Mirela with a surprised expression on his face. After several seconds of very direct eye contact, the man became conscious of his expression and immediately blundered into the elevator. Reaching for the yellow buttons, their fingers collided, both pressing the one for the atrium.
The unexpected touch startled the both of them. The two looked up at each other slightly smiling, as their eyes locked. Mirela read his face; deep into his greenish-brown eyes, she found a hint of comfort. It was strange. That morning she had been so lost, so alone. By simply looking into the warm eyes of a stranger, her heart flickered with hope.
The intense silence was broken by the familiar “DING” of the elevator.
The doors opened and two men stood waiting to enter the elevator. Mirela recognized one of them as living on her hall and frequently rushing to work, and the other as an angry bookstore customer.
With one last curious stare, the two strangers departed, exiting the elevator.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
She was standing at the back of the elevator, leaning gracefully against the wall. Mamet stared in wonder at this beautiful creature. To him she looked like one of the elegant statues that was carved into the front of old ships, with proud eyes that radiated warmth, intelligence, and sadness. Mamet could tell that she was upset. Normally this wouldnt have phased him, however, her sadness radiated from deep inside those gorgous eyes and seemed to call out for his care. He wanted to make her happy again. It was a completely infantile thought and Mamet knew it. But it didnt change the fact that as he stared at the women from his dream, looking back at him with those eyes that held so much pride and pain, Mamet felt himself allowing his heart to feel for her. His eyes must have given him away because as he stared into hers, he registered some sort of recognition in them. This snapped him back into reality and he realized that he must have been stupidly staring at her for quite some time. Inwardly cursing himself, he stepped onto the elevator. As he turned toward the door, he caught another glimpse of her standing there. Up close she was even more beautiful than he could have possibly imagined. From far away she looked perfect, unblemished as though she had just floated down from the clouds. Up close he could see some minute, almost invisible imperfections that showed the life that she had lived. The layer of reality that these earthly imperfections added to her person, heightened his attraction toward her. As he reached for the button, she did the same and their hands brushed together. Instantly, Mamet felt as though electricity was surging up his arm and into his brain. It was as though his subconscious and his waking life had crashed together as he made contact with what had been, up unti now, only fantasy. It was the most sensual feeling Mamet had felt in a long time. But with this woman, the attraction wasnt simply sexual. This part still puzzled him, and yet the lightness in his stomach and his brain kept him from pondering over it too much. He wanted to speak to her, tell her that what ever was wrong, he could fix. Wanted to tell her that the forlorn look in her eyes was curable. He opened his mouth, ready to say something, but years of suppressed feelings, and walls around his emotions are not easily overcome, and the words wouldnt form. As he struggled, the elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open. Mamet exited the elevator, completely in shock by what he had just experienced. He was so dumbfounded that he didnt even look up to see Earl walking towards him across the lobby. The two collided and Mamet fell to one side. Murmering apologies, he walked out of the revolving doors, out onto the sidewalk, and toward the pub. He needed a drink.
Post a Comment