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Mar. 30th, 2003 08:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
taratemimaFirst part of this short story I call "Going Up"
I was the one who saw the first body in the elevator. I was just going up to a writer's group that stopped meeting at Espresso Royale and at someone's apartment. I press the button for up, and a body drops.
He was dressed in an old suit, his face puffy and blue, his eyes bulging and mouth wide. I run to a security guard. After speaking to someone with a walkie-talkie, speaking in English and Haitian Creole, he calls the police.
I see the stretcher walk to the elevator. I ask the security guard to tell the the people waiting for me that I will be there soon. Well, as soon as I can get to the fourth floor using the stairs. I got there, told them someone was found in an elevator. They quietly wondered if he was dead, then just passed around current projects.
The news came on, and a newscaster talked about asphyxiation, but it is drowned out by news of war, murder and rainstorms.
I was the one who saw the first body in the elevator. I was just going up to a writer's group that stopped meeting at Espresso Royale and at someone's apartment. I press the button for up, and a body drops.
He was dressed in an old suit, his face puffy and blue, his eyes bulging and mouth wide. I run to a security guard. After speaking to someone with a walkie-talkie, speaking in English and Haitian Creole, he calls the police.
I see the stretcher walk to the elevator. I ask the security guard to tell the the people waiting for me that I will be there soon. Well, as soon as I can get to the fourth floor using the stairs. I got there, told them someone was found in an elevator. They quietly wondered if he was dead, then just passed around current projects.
The news came on, and a newscaster talked about asphyxiation, but it is drowned out by news of war, murder and rainstorms.
