I hear the soft thunk of the elevator doors opening, and a slow, confused shuffle as my fellow passengers push out into the hallway. Though there must be at least twenty of us crowded in, they all leave a bit of space around me, as if afraid of insulting a blind woman. I feel their abscence the same way I felt their presence, by a slight change in the air around me, a cooler breeze as they creep past. They whisper to each other now, but they were silent before. I lean back against the cold metal walls, feeling the handle bar dig into my bare forearms as the footsteps at last die away, leaving me alone in the elevator.
The doors sweep shut. I wait for a moment, listening to the soft hum of machinery and voices echoing from other parts of the building. The air in here smells close and sweet with a mixture of dust, disinfectant spray, and the last lingering traces of passengers' perfume. As I begin crossing the elevator to enter a new floor number, the doors suddenly fly open again, and a man walks in.
I know it is a man because of the awkward way he moves, and the overpowering scent of his cologne. I also know he is looking at me, becuse he makes a small grunting noise to himself before taking his place along the opposite wall.
"Where are you headed?"
I snort to myself. He must have noticed my blindness: no one ever offers to push the buttons for another human being unless they feel sorry for them. "My apartment's on the third floor," I say. "But the third button's missing. You'll have to press four and wait for about seven seconds, sometimes eight if we're moving slowly, then press the emergency stop button. It's the third one from the top. You'll know it because it doesn't feel as smooth as the others."
He pauses for a moment. I wonder what he's thinking. "You know, I'm not--" he begins, then stops abruptly and pushes the button.
"You're not blind?" I brush a strand of hair away from my eyes, where it's tickling the lids. "Is that what you were going to say?"
His collar rustles slightly as he shrugs. "Poor choice of words," he mumbles.
Seven seconds have passed. I reach across the elevator, find the emergency stop button, and press it. Nothing happenes.
"Damn," I say. "We're stuck."
"Stuck?"
"It only lasts about a minute. It happens when you push the emergency button too late."
"Oh." He shrugs again. It must be a bad habit of his. "I suppose you do this a lot?"
"I live here," I say. From behind the wall, I can hear the sound of a television blaring. It must be a foreign language station, because I can't understand a word.
"Alone?"
"Excuse me?" I turn to face the sound of his voice as best I can. "Yes, alone. Why?"
He makes a meek little noise under his breath. I snort again and lean back against the bar, rocking on my heels.
"I can probably get around my place better than you get around yours," I say after a moment. "For example, I know this elevator is four paces wide by about six and a half deep, depending on if I start with my right foot first or my left. The walls are smooth sheets of metal, lined up vertically with a quarter-inch part ever two feet. The carpet is short and wearing through, and on Mondays it smells like glass cleaner because the window washer is so clumsy."
"Anyone can describe an elevator they ride in every day," the man says, a defensive note in his voice. "I didn't want you to--"
"You," I interrupt, "You weigh between a hundred and sixty and a hundred eighty pounds, depending on how tall you are. You wear strongly scented cologne, but the brand you're wearing right now is a cheaper one. You don't like silence, otherwise you would have tried to end this conversation already."
"You don't need to be blind to know that," he says. The elevator jerks as it resumes its upward climb, and he gives a small sigh of relief.
"No," I say, "You don't." The door slids open at the fourth floor hallway. The apartment nearest to the elevator always smells like flowers: today, it's a full bouquet of lily-of-the-valley. "Is this your stop?" I ask, breathing in the deep scent.
"No," he says. I suddenly realize how close he is, close enough for me to feel his sleeve as it brushes against my arm. I reach out to push the second floor button at the same time he does: our hands meet in the air.
I quickly drop mine and let him push the button. Seven seconds later--I hear him counting under his breath--the emergency gear gives a faint sigh, and the door slides open.
I try to slip past him, but he blocks my path, a solid wall of warmth and overpowering cologne.
"Can I walk you to your door?" he asks.
I smile. Charity or attraction, who can tell? I lay my hand on his arm and push him aside.
"No, thank you," I say, still smiling, and step out of the elevator. The door closes with a gentle thud.
The smell of cologne, no longer so oppresive, clings to the air around me as I start down the hall.
Author notes
Two character story. Also, this is the second short story I have written in this PoV. Please share your opinions on the viewpoint and anything else you find I can improve on.
A contest entry
- Paint Your Canvas With Words... by Chemical Imbalance.
350 points, ended June 1, 2007, 11 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Three part contest by Rosemary.
175 points, ended May 31, 2007, 13 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Want a trophy? by EtherealButterfly.
135 points, ended May 30, 2007, 20 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Write me a story using.....(updated may 11)(10. OPTIONS) by DemApples.
600 points, ended June 12, 2007, 14 entries
Honorable mention
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Criticism would be greatly appreciated!
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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Very Good
For some reason all of your stories seem to be unfinished. I need more! This was a very well written piece. The scenario was interesting and it gave room for the imagination to stretch a little.
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Yeah, very good, as the other have raved in more expressive words than I am actually in a mood for using.
WAY TO TELL THAT MAN!
Lovely detail.
Did tend to drag on a bit, though.
And the ending was expected.
Very good though, as I said. -
Only Excellent.
Well, Bitter, you have written a very carefully crafted and touching piece. I found myself also in the expanding confines (ironically oxymoronic!) of this "ELEVAT
OR...as my consciousness rose. A very nice, and sophisticated bit of symbolism, I thought. I loved the piece especially up top, even before your male character waltzed in...(perhaps a little too much of a klutz...)but the sightless woman was delightful, perceptive, aware and sensitive, (even if she pushes our Mr. Clumsy aside. My only unanswered confusion was at the very end. I mean, she DOES ask: "Charity or attraction?" Doesn't she? So...what led to the cologne being NO LONGER oppressive? It still "clung to the wall!" I'd like to know.
Lovely story. DO NOT GIVE UP YOUR WRITING!
Gary Alexander
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This was very well done.
I could picture everything..perfectly, how the blind woman saw it.
I admire you, by how well this was done.
I loved each of their personailty's.
It kept my attention until the very end, where you left me wanting for more.
Amazing job.
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First person, present tense. That is difficult. I like it, though. Present tense gives an intimacy with the story--a sense of "this is happening" rather than "this could have happened"--that isn't quite possible from past tense. You did a wonderful job writing your main character, as well. I can't imagine what it would be like to live without being able to see what's in front of me. For the blind woman, of course, it's her reality and rather unremarkable. You did a very good job of conveying what it is like to be her, rather than a pitying and slightly awed outsider.
Overall, your writing was very clean and clear. I found a few mispellings, though:
"abscence" -- should be "absence."
"I also know he is looking at me, becuse ..." -- should be "because."
"oppresive" should be "oppressive."
"The door slids open.." - "slids" should be "slides."
"Nothing happenes." -- should be "happens."
Oh, and your avatar made me realize where I've seen the name "Bitter Irony" before. You write on Fictionpress and Booksie, as well, don't you? I remember that I really enjoyed reading your poem "Lullaby," the one with Psyche's picture. Good to see someone halfway familiar.
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Whoa
That was pretty good. It was all good and stuff. lol. You explain the point of view of the blind woman perfectly!
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wow
this was really nice...and from a blind woman's point of view unique...you did pretty good..i liked it alot good job -
This was very good. Your description was wonderful. I could feel, strangly enough, how the blind woman felt...what she 'saw' with her other senses. You did a wonderful job with this, and I loved how the man at the end changed his tone. Thanks for entering the contest and good luck.
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