Tuesday, September 25, 2007

British Elevators

Today I reacquainted myself with what could only be Britain’s most ancient elevator.

It started with me fiddling uselessly with the elevator buttons which were obviously not connected to anything but my fraying nerves. After a few irritating minutes of me stabbing at numerous buttons then calling out to an unseen elevator person, the doors clanged shut.

With a sudden burst of vigour, the elevator shot upwards to the eleventh floor at such a speed I thought my face would peel away from my skull. On reaching the eleventh floor it paused tantalizing for a half-second, then dropped ten-feet, poised for another few seconds, then proceeded to freefall to the ground floor.

I emerged with what felt like blood trickling from my ears and wobbled back to my car with as much dignity as I could muster.

posted by Cindy-Lou Dale @ Tuesday, September 25, 2007  

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