AN: One-shot. This story is based on another short story, "Contents of a Dead Man's Pocket" by Jack Finney. It is quite interesting and would make for a suspenseful reading. This is set in 1956, same year the story was written.
The rolled up ball of paper hit the wall, narrowly missing the dustbin, and joining the ever growing mound of other rolled up pieces of paper.
The only source of light was the table lamp at the writing desk, where Maura was currently writing on another piece of paper. The room was freezing for it was winter time in Boston, and Maura had not turned on the heater.
Snowflakes rushed down from heaven's sieve and the wind howled against the window pane, wanting its full force to be allowed into the house. But this was all ignored as the writer paused to stare into space, wondering what next to write down. She looked down at the words that she had written down so far, lips moving feverishly as she mumbled it silently.
Sighing in frustration, she crossed out the latest line she had written. Maura was stumped – she definitely had encountered a writer's block. No, not a writer's block, more of like a writer's Mount Everest. She glanced at the clock. She only had two more hours before this report was due, and she hadn't even read through the draft. Closing her eyes, she finally thought of the sentence she could use to end the current paragraph.
Suddenly, a gust of frigid wind blew through the gap of one of the windows that she hadn't shut all the way down, snatching up the stack of papers and scattering them around the room. Maura immediately leaped up and gathered the dancing slips of paper, stacking them once more in their neat little pile. When she looked down at the table, she realized that the piece of paper on which she had jotted down the outline for the paper was gone. Frowning, she started looking for it. As she stooped down to look under the table, something white flew past the corner of her eye.
Maura snapped up and saw the paper fly right through the same entrance through which the wind had blown in. Maura cried out when she missed grasping the paper by just a few centimeters. She looked out the window just in time to see the paper do a little dance flip and land on the ledge near the window.
However, it rested there for only a minute before another gust of wind blew it towards the bottom corner of the walls. It landed in between the bottom of the line where two walls met to form a ninety degree angle.
Maura held her breath and waited a minute to see if the wind would blow it even further. It was about fifteen feet away. So near, yet so far. But she simply couldn't just leave. On that slip was two months of sleepless nights, long hours of planning, and an ever straining relationship with Jane.
Maura tried to think of something long enough that she could use to reach the paper. The broom? No. The coat hanger? No. The mop? No. But, Maura could not simply just let it be. This was her big break. If her boss liked this, it would mean that she would have finally achieve her dream of becoming a writer. Not only could she make a name for herself, she would be rich. Jane and she could have the life they always wanted.
She pushed the window upwards and looked towards her left, the direction where the paper was. There was a ledge that jutted about twenty centimetres from the wall, both from below and above the window.
She walked over to her cupboard and took out her suede jacket. It would be very cold outside. She breathed in deeply. The apartment was on the thirteenth floor. If she fell, she would die.
Maura stuck her right leg out first, planting it on the ledge. She slowly inched out, placing her hand on the upper ledge. Her bare hand brushed across the snow covered bricks, sending chilling tingles all the way to her spine. Her entire body was now out on the ledge, her face facing the wall and her cheek pressed against the bricks.
She breathed in deeply again, sucking in the frigid air. She focused on what she was going to do first. Slide my right feet along with my right hand, followed by sliding my left feet along with my left hand. Do it like a crab crawling sideways. Slowly, she repeated the process until she came to the corner.
Now came the tricky part. Because the paper was at the trapped near where her feet was, she would have to stoop down. Maura tried to leave one hand on the ledge and reach to pick up. It didn't work. Even with her fingers fully extended, hand stopped just a few hair breadths away.
She slowly straightened back up. She looked at the corner of the wall. If she could put her right leg onto the other corner of the wall and put her right hand on the edge of the smaller corner of the wall, then she could lower herself even more. Going through with her plan, she managed to squat down, and her left hand finally grasped the paper.
Alas, she made a mistake – she looked down. She saw the street only littered with a few people, cars zooming here and there, street vendors hawking their wares or food. Nauseous and panic overwhelmed her senses, giving her a feeling of vertigo. Maura shut her eyes tightly, trying to block the mental picture of her body hurtling downward, becoming one with the pavement.
Her whole body was tensed up, as if every cell of her muscle was trying to glue itself to the wall. Her thighs were burning, as if she had just ran up thirty flight of stairs without taking a single break. Her fingers were starting to cramp up, like that time she had played through each major and minor scale for a whole hour also without taking a single break.
Her eyes were still shut. She realized what a fool she was. Jane had gone out to the Dirty Robber. Jane had invited Maura to come along, but Maura had declined. In Jane's eyes, she had seen how her refusal had hurt her. They already spent so little time together. Maura was always out, gathering research for her paper and would always arrive home late, when Jane was already in bed. There was rarely a time when they could sit down and talk. Whatever sex they had was chaste and mainly just to get release.
If Maura had accepted Jane's invitation, she wouldn't be stuck in this awkward situation. But, here she was, as stiff as a statue, hoisted up thirteen floors above the street. Maura suddenly barked out a half-crazed laugh at the absurdity of the situation she was in. She rested her forehead against the cold hard brick wall, breathing through her nostrils and releasing it back through her mouth.
Presently, after many such breaths, she felt herself calm down a bit. She painfully straightened herself again, reaching her left hand up to place the paper into her pocket and reached up to put her hand back onto the ledge. She swung her right leg back to join her other leg onto the same ledge, moved her right hand to join her left on the same ledge also, and began the arduous journey back to the apartment.
At last, she came back to the window, only to gasp in shock. The window had fallen shut, and the impact had also caused the lock to fall into place. There was no way Maura could open the window from the outside. She felt tears start to fall. After all the trouble she went through, was she doomed to freeze to death outside? Jane had left about half an hour ago, which would mean that she probably wouldn't be back for about another four hours. Or did she leave two hours ago? To Maura, it seemed that it had indeed taken two hours for her to retrieve the paper.
She risked a peek down at the street below. An idea popped into her mind. She dug around her right pocket first, followed by her left. Taking stock, she counted a total seven pennies, a box of matchsticks, and a paperclip - plus the piece of paper she had rescued. She took out a penny and dropped it onto the street below, hoping someone might notice. She dropped the rest at regular intervals, but no one so much as looked up. Maura couldn't believe her luck, or unluckiness. She finally let her tears have free reign.
Now, the only way that she could think of getting the window open was to bash it open. She couldn't wait for Jane to get back. Who knows how long she would take. Maura would probably have turned into a mauropsicle. However, bashing open the window would involve one and only one chance.
Doing so would involve that Maura would have to swing her entire body into the window. If it broke, she would tumble inside. If it didn't break, well, her body would rebound and fall to its death. She took a few more calming breaths, realising that those breaths could be her last.
Maura swung her left side of her body over the ledge, until only her right foot and hand were supporting her. She cleared her mind, except for one image. JANE! She cried as she hurled her body as hard as she could against the window.
Everything moved in slow motion. For a moment, the window felt as if it were going to withstand her weight. But, after a while, Maura saw a hairline fracture on the glass, followed by another, and another, until the window broke into a million tiny pieces and she hurtled into the apartment. She felt her cheek bleed where a few glass chips had cut into the flesh. Maura couldn't have cared less. Instead, she stood up and quickly went to get her coat. There was somewhere she needed to be right now.
Before she closed the door, she surveyed the room, papers were flurrying all over, and some even flew out through the broken window, flying its way to freedom. Maura merely smiled as she slammed the door shut.
She ran towards the Dirty Robber, ignoring the stares that met her when they saw her dishevelled hair, bloodied cheek, and reckless way in which she sped towards her destination.
She pushed open the door and spotted Jane immediately. She sat alone at the bar counter, chugging a huge mug of beer down. As Maura approached her, she saw a few tears glistening on Jane's face.
"Jane, Jane, honey." Maura cried out when she reached Jane's side.
Jane turned to face her in shock. "Maur, hey. What are doing here? I thought you were busy." Jane couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice.
Maura knew she deserved it. She reached out and cupped Jane's cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "Jane, my love, after tonight, I realised I needed to set my priorities straight." Maura whispered as she pulled Jane into a kiss.