The Day I arrived at the 13th Floor Part I

I've never been superstitious. Sure, I always think twice before walking under a ladder, but it's not because I believe in bad luck. It's part of the reason why I've never understood the lack of a thirteenth floor in a building. Even when they change the floor numbers, there's still a thirteenth floor, it's just misnamed. I hate rising past the thirteenth floor for this very reason.

So one day I stood in an elevator of a building that reportedly lacked the unlucky floor. My eyes stared at the buttons in boredom, wishing I had laser vision so I could make the buttons melt. At least that would be entertaining. 9....10.....11...12....13....I blinked. That 13 button hadn't been there a second earlier. The elevator continued to rise.

Frantically I pressed the 13 button, but of course the elevator had already passed it. Finally, the door opened to the floor I originally chose, but now I had changed my mind. I immediately pushed the door close button, to the dismay of the person wanting to enter the elevator car. I pushed the 13 button, and the car dropped. I had to hold onto the wall, and sit on the floor for fear of being thrown.

With a final lurch the car stopped, and the elevator chimed in snide victory. Shakily trying to stand up, I watched the doors open with a burst of light.

An Odyssey in Drabbles Part III

(This drabble continues a story about a disgruntled customer seeking to retrieve his computer from repair, which can be found here: http://fortyfifthparadox.com/?p=163

 

It took me long enough to find the warehouse. Well, of course it wouldn't have taken me long if I had gone there directly, but that's rather hard to accomplish when one has to hitchhike his way there. Glancing ruefully up at the two story building, I wondered if my computer would have already been sent home by now. My stomach growled slightly, and I tried once again to quell the pain with a stick of gum. As usual, it only made me thirsty. Even the Cyclops's food hadn't lasted me long.

I stepped inside the door, not sure how else to enter the building. Walking up to the front desk, I found it empty. Curious, I went behind the desk, typing on the computer, locked out. Staying close to the wall, I glanced through the glass doors to the hallway beyond. Past the glass, the halls hadn't been cleaned as well, had cheep fluorescent lights instead of soft-lit lamps. The walls hadn't been painted beyond white, and the doors had been made with wood instead of glass.

After I stepped into the hall, I realized I had no shadows to hide in. I moved quickly, pointedly attempting to act like an employee at the same time. It didn't occur to me then how ridiculous it would be for a bearded, ragged man to show up to work without showering first. Finally at the end of the hall, I found a door. Leaning against it, I listened. On the other side I could hear men talking, laughing, and arguing. I peeked through the narrow rectangular window in the door, and gasped.

At the other side of the room, I could see my red laptop, Penelope. Employees surrounded her, debating who should take it home. I wondered if they fixed it or not yet as I carefully turned the knob. I planned on running and grabbing my computer, but Fate had different plans. My foot landed on a wayward wheeled cart. sending me skittering across the room. Some of the employees tried to block my path, but the momentum on the concrete floor barreled them out of the way.

Tumbling over the last, I lunged for my computer. Nabbing the computer and the notorious wooden cart, we slid out of the room together, into the hall, through the reception room, and out the door. I finally had Penelope back, but had no way to charge her battery.

While you were sleeping....

Silver light hovered over the paper covered couches in a haze. A clock ticked the time tediously at a constant tempo. Tick...Tick...Tick...Even the the fibers in the shag carpet bristled tensely.

"Hey Stan?"

The computer hummed, it's screen flashing from black to rainbow in one solid blink. "Yeah?"

"What time is it?"

Words typed themselves out onto a small messenger window and a smiley rolled its eyes rather than punctuate the sentence with a period. "You have a clock, don't you?"

Across the room, the laptop's speakers dinged anxiously. "Well...yeah..but..."

"It's still says 3:07 doesn't it, Bobby?" The fans inside the desktop computer slowed down, its hum droning into a low sigh.

"Wow...who knew both our clocks would be off at the same time." Bobby chimed.

"Ever think that maybe...just maybe the clocks are spot on?" The desktop's screen saver faded on in boredom.

The laptop's screen switched from window to window pensively, and the cursor paced back and forth across the screen. "But...it can't be 3:07 still...that wasages ago."

"Morning would come soon enough if you'd actually shut down for the night."

"But...but..."

"What is it Bobby?" Stan droned impatiently.

"I'm afraidofthedark." The laptop beeped.

Stan sighed through his speakers. "See that light on your monitor?"

Bobby's webcam aimed its lense down toward the table he sat on. "No...yeah. Yeah! I see it!"

"Okay, Bobby," The desktop took a deep breath, its screen buzzing tiredly. "Listen carefully, cause I'm only going to say this once: That light stays on even when you're turned off."

"Really?"

"Yes Bobby, now go to sleep."

Stan's screen faded to black again, and his fan's slowed to a steadier speed. Even the cord on his mouse seemed to slacken a little as wires inside the cords relaxed bit by bit....

"Stan? What time is it?"