Elevator | A 100 Word Story

#098 Six of Ink

“Going down.” I handed the elevator operator a piece of paper. He didn’t bother opening it. He’d seen the familiar red color before. He knew what it meant. I tried to catch his eye and smile for reassurance that everything was going to be okay but he avoided eye contact as he guided the doors closed, and pushed the button for the sixth floor.

It began a slow descent then lurched to a stop suddenly, and the heart I no longer had, sank. I’d only heard rumors about the sixth floor but no one dared to speculate further.  

Doors opened.