WILLIAM ARTHUR HOLMES

The Elevator

Benny was on the elevator of a building he'd never been in before. It was climbing fast. Too fast. "It didn't stop on those floors," he said, looking at the numbers as it sped upward.

When no one replied, he looked to see if anyone heard him. Apparently not.

To his right stood an attractive blonde woman, thirtyish, in a blue blazer, matching skirt and white silk blouse. She turned away and clutched her purse with both hands.

To his left stood a young couple. The woman's long black hair hung down over most of her face. She was avoiding eye contact. Her muscle-boy friend met Benny’s gaze with a silent glare.

Benny returned his attention to the elevator control panel. Was he the only one concerned or aware the elevator was not stopping on their floors? What is with these people? Hadn't they pushed the buttons?

The elevator increased speed as it continued upward. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. It's going too fast! They were just a few floors below Benny's, and the knot in his stomach cinched tighter and tighter.

He fell to the floor, doubled over in agony as if stabbed. Then the phone rang.

What the....? Benny's mind gasped. Embedded in the wall near his head was the elevator's emergency telephone. The ringing was so close and loud, he thought his eardrums would burst.

The other passengers looked at him.

"Aren't you go