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A Toast to Incomplete Thoughts
By Gordon MeiThis is a collection of some unfinished prose that I could not classify as short stories for whatever reason. I keep them anyway. Enjoy.
"Vator." (September 30, 2005)A cluster of footsteps reverberated hard slaps on the hard hallway floor behind the closing elevator doors. Without a single disruption of the doors automated shutting motion, a ragged man slipped sideways through the closing slit and brushed the corner of his beige manila folder on the door edge. Two people flinched and parted hastily to make room for the newcomer in the elevator car. Two seconds after the door closed, the hydraulic sounds hummed, and the car began ascending. The lady on the left glanced momentarily at the mystery man with the manila folder, but she immediately fixed her gaze on a random point on the elevator door, only to quickly discover that she was staring right into his eyes through the reflecting polish. She lowered her head and took a sudden deep interest in her shoes. The man on the right stared with a blank gaze at the current floor indicators. Two. Three. Four. Five... Yet anyone standing at the mystery man's spot wouldn't be able to help but sense the watchful peripheral vision of this slightly twitching indicator-monitoring individual.
Two numbers glowed a dull yellow on the button panel. 36. 47. The mystery newcomer had not pressed anything, nor had anyone offered to help him do so. But at floor 7 and climbing, each passing minute seemed to aggravate those other occupants' anxieties. The woman on the left shuffled her feet in unbalanced steps and extended her thumb in an uncomfortable reach towards the button panel. Her retreating hand revealed a newly lit 10 on the panel. As the car decelerated to a stop, both of the other occupants inched towards the elevator doors. As the doors opened, each of them grabbed a door edge and squeezed through the slowly widening slit. They disappeared immediately to the right and out of view. The doors remained open for a delayed time, all while leaving the desolate empty hall in full view ahead. The doors then closed, and the car sat in motionless suspension. The mystery newcomer stood there, continuing to stare straight ahead. The doors opened again, and an old man standing before the entrance hesitated before passing for another elevator. Once the doors had closed again, the mystery man approached the elevator button panel. He pushed a sequence. Fourteen. Twenty Seven. Five. Fifty Five. Nine. Thirteen. He backed back into the center of the elevator car and waited. Then came a new hydraulic sound, but one that was dampened and distant. The elevator began to descend. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. Ground. And that was as far down as the elevator indicators went. Yet. The elevator continued to descend and descend...
"Starry Night O'er the Woods" (July 18, 2002)'Twas a starry night. Renoa walked briskly across the dark, dark forest. To the left, to the right, up in the trees...there were the cold, white or yellow eyes of the night owls. Bats resting among the trees shed long stares on her, seemingly licking their teeth, if they had tongues, contemplating over attacking her at the neck or in the face.
"Equakelibrium" (July 2, 2000)"AND NOW, THE MOMENT YOU HAVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR - WALKING ACROSS THE TIGHTROPE!, OUR SPECIAL PERFORMANCE TODAY AT THE SAN FRANCISCO COW PALACE. THE ROPE IS SUSPENDED A DARING THIRTY FEET OFF THE GROUND WITH A LARGE RECTANGULAR TUB OF HAIR GEL/SOY SAUCE/MILK/GLUE MIXTURE BELOW! PLEASE WELCO