Lifting the Spirits
Been bored for hours.
Fucking lift, breaking down.
Sam's no help. He's sitting in the corner of this metal rat-cage, watching me pace and sighing heavily. When I looked at the hatch in the roof he started to get antsy, telling me the repairman would be here 'imminently' and I should just wait. Probably didn't want oil on his designer outfit.
That was over an hour ago. Still bored. Maybe I can try the hatch. I'd have to get Sam out of his expensive clothes though.
Now, there's an idea. Definitely worth pursuing.
Suddenly I'm not bored anymore.
He's watching me and it's making me twitchy. I should be grateful that he's stopped pacing the (small) confines of the lift and stopped bitching about being trapped here. And I'm incredibly grateful that he decided not to clamber through the hatch because knowing his propensity for getting hurt the lift would probably have started moving, with him still on the roof.
I should be grateful for all of those things.
I'm not. Because for the last fifteen minutes he's just been sitting opposite me, watching me.
Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?
Love in an Elevator
He's still watching me.
Thirty minutes on he's still watching me and still smiling. Only it's not a mysterious smile anymore. No. There's only one word to describe it.
I have a very bad feeling about this.
Sam is starting to look nervous. Actually he's been looking nervous for a while.
Good. Life's suddenly getting interesting.
What's he doing now...?
Eep? There's a new one. Never heard Sam say that before but I've never pinned him to an elevator floor before either.
I stare into startled green eyes, inches from my own. "I'm bored," I growl. "Entertain me."