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Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The following is a piece of writing submitted by Angela Auten on October 31, 2009


I walked onto the elevator in the skyscraper that I had worked in. I had to go to the thirty-seventh floor. I had to bring a letter to a co-worker. I had gotten it by mistake and I decided that it was time to give it back.

"Hey Angela, how are you," Alice asked.

"I'm good how about you," I asked her.

"I've been pretty good. My days have been pretty special. I am a single mother now," Alice responded.

"You don't say," I said.

We were on the thirty-seventh floor and then all of a sudden the elevator stopped moving.

"Oh my goodness," Alice said.

"Are you okay," I asked her.

"I am just fine. I was a little surprised though," she said.

"I guess the elevator won't move," I said.

"I wonder what's going on with it," she responded.

"I hope they fix it pretty soon," I responded.

"Me too, I have to get up to my office to finish work. I have to get my kids in an hour or so," Alice said.

"How old are you're kids now," I asked.

"Ten, twelve, and five," she said.

"Wow they are getting pretty big," I said.

"I know," she said.

"I remember how tiny they were," I said.

"I remember too," she said.

An hour later the elevator started to move. Alice and I were talking about our kids for the whole hour. We were saying how we didn't want our kids to grow up anymore.

I rushed to my co-workers office. Alice didn't go to her because she had to go pick up her kids. I hope she didn't get fired because she wasn't in her office.

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