Being Gary Hobson
By Measer
Disclaimer: Early Edition, its characters and whatever else are owned by Tristar and CBS. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is, was or ever will be made off this.
I would like to thank Melodey for betaing!
-----------------------------------------------------------
"Well? Are you coming?" A very pregnant woman, carrying a box full of pamphlets asked from inside the elevator.
Chuck took a few steps towards the elevator, but stopped, having a flashback to the last time he was in this situation. How he fainted, after the woman slumped to the floor as amniotic fluid flowed from her body when her contractions began. On the plus side he got his picture in the paper despite the fact he was unconscious the whole time.
He decided that he never wanted to go through that again. "No... I'll wait for the next one," he said shaking his head quickly.
"Whatever." She rolled her eyes as the doors slid shut, leaving Chuck the only person standing in the elevator area of the lobby.
A quarter past ten. He was once again late for work, but he didn't really care. The only thing that bothered him was Pritchard's mouth. Chuck had a feeling that his obnoxious boss was out to get him and wasn't in the mood to deal with him. He hit the elevator button repeatedly until a familiar "ding" sounded and the door parted in front of him. Stepping in, he hit 12.
"My job would be so much easier if I had the paper," Chuck leaned against the back wall mumbling to himself as the elevator slowly ascend upward. "I could be richer than my wildest fantasies." But he didn't have the paper, just his own skills. It bothered him that a way to make a fortune was so close, yet so far. He wished that just for once that he could make Gary see his point of view for once, instead of the unspoken rules that his best friend had placed upon tomorrow's paper.
Chuck was lost in thought. Which was a bad thing since the elevator decided to come to a screeching halt, tossing its inattentive passenger to the floor like a crumpled piece of paper by a writer who suffers from writer's block. He let off a low groan as he laid face forward on the floor. He rolled over and opened his eyes to see the fluorescent lights flickering in an almost hypnotic pattern. With a low buzzing noise, the lights cut out, throwing the elevator into complete darkness.
"Great ... just great...! Is anything going to go my way today?"
"Ow ... that's the railing..." Rubbing the slight bump on his head with one hand, Chuck used the other to hoist himself to a standing position. He was unsure of what to do next. Luckily the emergency lights kick in. He was greeted by the brightness of a 5 watt bulb. "That's it... I'm taking the stairs from now on..."
Chuck let off an exasperated breath, wishing once again that he'd taking a sick day. He looked up at the light and sighed again, for the second time, loudly. "It's better than nothing ... but I can get more light out of a glow stick..."
The light flickered brightly then dimly. Chuck prayed that the thing wouldn't die. "Okay I'm sorry... You're bright enough... You're bright enough!"
The light fluctuated a couple time, teasing poor Chuck, who stared up at the light patiently. It finally settled back to it's normal illumination. Chuck silently mouthed the words thank you, just glad for the brilliant gleam.
Chuck had light, so the next thing on his "to do" list was to see if he could get the elevator moving. He pressed the emergency alarm button. It had not effect. He opened the little panel that housed the emergency phone. It was no longer attached to its base, someone had cut the wires. In a last ditch effort to get the elevator started, Chuck began to haphazardly push buttons, hoping for some sort of response. After five minutes he still got nothing.
"There couldn't be anything in Gary's and his paper about this. 'MAN STUCK IN ELEVATOR FOR HOURS'. Then he could have warned me to take a sick day..." He whined after seating himself on the floor.
Chuck was going stir crazy. It felt like hours had passed, but in reality only ten minutes. He tried to keep himself amused with the contents of his pockets, which wasn't much (a pack of gum -- minus three sticks, his house keys, a used Kleenex and a dollar thirty-seven in change). He managed to make a weird snow man sculpture with components of his pockets; a quarter for a head, Kleenex body, foil wrappers for arms all held together by gum, but quickly lost interest and found himself staring at the door.
Freedom was behind those doors. He could feel it, like he could feel the elevator walls slowly close in on him. He stood up and began to pace the elevator's close quarters. This didn't put his mind at ease, it only made it worse. "The walls are not closing in... It's just your imagination."
Chuck had to get out. He ran for the doors and noticed that they were slightly ajar. He wedged his fingers through the crack and grunted as he pried them apart. Centimeter by centimeter, they slowly opened. Chuck found himself on the floor once more as the door finally gave way. He got back up and dusted himself off, but stopped as he noticed a bright light. Instead of seeing a floor above and a floor below, he saw a floor with gray carpeting and a man dusting plants.
"Freedom!" Chuck yelled, tumbling out of the elevator. He stood up and instantly hit his head on the white foam board ceiling. He put his palms on the ceiling and realized it was only four feet from the floor.
"I don't remember ever seeing you here before. Are you new to the 7 1/2 floor?"
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End of part one...
Part two will be up soon... I got it here somewhere....
Hey! Look, the review form... hint.... hint... hint...
By Measer
Disclaimer: Early Edition, its characters and whatever else are owned by Tristar and CBS. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is, was or ever will be made off this.
I would like to thank Melodey for betaing!
-----------------------------------------------------------
"Well? Are you coming?" A very pregnant woman, carrying a box full of pamphlets asked from inside the elevator.
Chuck took a few steps towards the elevator, but stopped, having a flashback to the last time he was in this situation. How he fainted, after the woman slumped to the floor as amniotic fluid flowed from her body when her contractions began. On the plus side he got his picture in the paper despite the fact he was unconscious the whole time.
He decided that he never wanted to go through that again. "No... I'll wait for the next one," he said shaking his head quickly.
"Whatever." She rolled her eyes as the doors slid shut, leaving Chuck the only person standing in the elevator area of the lobby.
A quarter past ten. He was once again late for work, but he didn't really care. The only thing that bothered him was Pritchard's mouth. Chuck had a feeling that his obnoxious boss was out to get him and wasn't in the mood to deal with him. He hit the elevator button repeatedly until a familiar "ding" sounded and the door parted in front of him. Stepping in, he hit 12.
"My job would be so much easier if I had the paper," Chuck leaned against the back wall mumbling to himself as the elevator slowly ascend upward. "I could be richer than my wildest fantasies." But he didn't have the paper, just his own skills. It bothered him that a way to make a fortune was so close, yet so far. He wished that just for once that he could make Gary see his point of view for once, instead of the unspoken rules that his best friend had placed upon tomorrow's paper.
Chuck was lost in thought. Which was a bad thing since the elevator decided to come to a screeching halt, tossing its inattentive passenger to the floor like a crumpled piece of paper by a writer who suffers from writer's block. He let off a low groan as he laid face forward on the floor. He rolled over and opened his eyes to see the fluorescent lights flickering in an almost hypnotic pattern. With a low buzzing noise, the lights cut out, throwing the elevator into complete darkness.
"Great ... just great...! Is anything going to go my way today?"
"Ow ... that's the railing..." Rubbing the slight bump on his head with one hand, Chuck used the other to hoist himself to a standing position. He was unsure of what to do next. Luckily the emergency lights kick in. He was greeted by the brightness of a 5 watt bulb. "That's it... I'm taking the stairs from now on..."
Chuck let off an exasperated breath, wishing once again that he'd taking a sick day. He looked up at the light and sighed again, for the second time, loudly. "It's better than nothing ... but I can get more light out of a glow stick..."
The light flickered brightly then dimly. Chuck prayed that the thing wouldn't die. "Okay I'm sorry... You're bright enough... You're bright enough!"
The light fluctuated a couple time, teasing poor Chuck, who stared up at the light patiently. It finally settled back to it's normal illumination. Chuck silently mouthed the words thank you, just glad for the brilliant gleam.
Chuck had light, so the next thing on his "to do" list was to see if he could get the elevator moving. He pressed the emergency alarm button. It had not effect. He opened the little panel that housed the emergency phone. It was no longer attached to its base, someone had cut the wires. In a last ditch effort to get the elevator started, Chuck began to haphazardly push buttons, hoping for some sort of response. After five minutes he still got nothing.
"There couldn't be anything in Gary's and his paper about this. 'MAN STUCK IN ELEVATOR FOR HOURS'. Then he could have warned me to take a sick day..." He whined after seating himself on the floor.
Chuck was going stir crazy. It felt like hours had passed, but in reality only ten minutes. He tried to keep himself amused with the contents of his pockets, which wasn't much (a pack of gum -- minus three sticks, his house keys, a used Kleenex and a dollar thirty-seven in change). He managed to make a weird snow man sculpture with components of his pockets; a quarter for a head, Kleenex body, foil wrappers for arms all held together by gum, but quickly lost interest and found himself staring at the door.
Freedom was behind those doors. He could feel it, like he could feel the elevator walls slowly close in on him. He stood up and began to pace the elevator's close quarters. This didn't put his mind at ease, it only made it worse. "The walls are not closing in... It's just your imagination."
Chuck had to get out. He ran for the doors and noticed that they were slightly ajar. He wedged his fingers through the crack and grunted as he pried them apart. Centimeter by centimeter, they slowly opened. Chuck found himself on the floor once more as the door finally gave way. He got back up and dusted himself off, but stopped as he noticed a bright light. Instead of seeing a floor above and a floor below, he saw a floor with gray carpeting and a man dusting plants.
"Freedom!" Chuck yelled, tumbling out of the elevator. He stood up and instantly hit his head on the white foam board ceiling. He put his palms on the ceiling and realized it was only four feet from the floor.
"I don't remember ever seeing you here before. Are you new to the 7 1/2 floor?"
----------
End of part one...
Part two will be up soon... I got it here somewhere....
Hey! Look, the review form... hint.... hint... hint...