Storymatic 0002
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- person in love
- rider of elevators
- mirror
- language barrier
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Stanley shook in his shoes. They didn't fit right, and he knew that. Too
much room to slide about inside. If he walked quickly he could step right
out of them. But they were his nicest pair. Brown and shiny. Didn't know
what type they were. Dress shoes had types, didn't they? They matched his
sport coat. It was brown too, so that meant it matched. It was a fine
coat. He kept it in plastic in the hall closet. Wore it to weddings,
funerals, that sort of thing. He found it at the Goodwill in the
summertime when nobody wanted to think about coats and chilly weather. It
was marked down to $9.99.

Stanley was sweating now inside his brown sport coat. He hoped it wasn't
showing. He always wore an undershirt, even on the hottest days, just in
case. It's not that the hotel hallway was particularly warm today. Stanley
was just the type who sweats. Always had been. Best to be prepared. That's
what the Boy Scouts say, right? He didn't feel prepared today, despite the
undershirt.

Stanley was standing two and a half steps from a pair of shining brass
doors polished into mirrors. He tried very hard not to look at the golden
Stanley staring back at him. Instead he glanced above the doors to the old
fashioned metal lever and its decorative half-moon of numbers. Nine
numbers and the arm pointing to the five, now six. A tiny ping sounded
from somewhere deep in the wall. The golden Stanley straightened his tie
and the sweaty one followed in pantomime.

He could feel his legs shaking, but he couldn't see it in the reflection.
Just like his heart. No one else could hear it like he could. As the arrow
shifted to point to seven the only sound Stanley could make out was the
blood raging through his body in time to that staccato beat. He couldn't
make out the chime that sounded in warning immediately before the doors
began to open.

The elevator reminded him of a bird cage. The doors parted to reveal
a lattice of metal stretched across the entrance like an accordion pulled
to its limits until, in the next moment, it too began to open, collapsing
in on itself as a Slinky might. The space inside was small and dressed in
faded scarlet. He released a small sound of relief. It was empty.

He moved inside, careful not to lose a shoe, and let the elevator close.
His doppelganger was gone.

[TODO: Ride up and down]
[TODO: Introduce the woman]
[TODO: The language]
.