They tried their best to make a stairwell work. The angles, the discomfort, the fear of falling made it impossible to keep a romantic mood.
The Stairwell (50)
“What was keeping her?” wondered Damien. It was only two flights of stairs. “Surely she wouldn’t get lost.”
He made up his mind to follow her footsteps. He pushed open the door stepping to the stairs. He spotted something on the next landing.
“Merideth,” was the last word he said.
The New Office (100)
Being banished to the stairwell was the ultimate punishment at the law firm McCoy, McCoy, McCoy and Real. No desk, no phone, an ancient Microsoft computer was all he had.
“Mr. Dunkenfield?” asked a head in the door opening.
“Yes.”
“A customer.”
‘You a lawyer?” his new customer asked as he pushed his way into the room.
“Yes.”
“Don’t need one. Are you a barrister?”
Yes.”
“Don’t need one”
“What do you need?”
“A therapist.”
“A therapist? Why do you need one?
“This isn’t practicing law. It’s embarrassing. You need a therapist. That’s me. Let’s get you out of here.”
The Right Floor (150)
He huffed as he opened the door. He panted his way to the office in the corner. Having climbed 40 sets of stairs to deliver his boss's note was not enjoyable but it had to be done. The elevator was out of service.
“Who are you?” asked a pert young woman from the doorway
"I’m Davy Jones,” he replied. “My boss sent me with a note for Alex Wheedlewacker.”
She looked amused. “Well that is interesting. You climbed 40 sets of stairs to deliver the note?
“Yes.”
“Mr. Wheedlewacker works on the 3rd floor.”
“I came all this way for nothing?” Davy Jones huffed.
“You won’t walk away empty handed,” Audrey said as she picked up a pen and jotted a note.
He started towards the door when she handed him the card. “What’s this?” he asked.
“Give me a call,” she smiled. “Your efforts have been given a date.”
The landlady shows me to the tiny room where I’m to live in this urban wilderness of Barcelona. It’s painted entirely in a deep, thunderous red. It has no windows, and seems to be furnished primarily with cats. “Excuse me,” I venture, “is it too late to cancel?
A Story Stack: Separation Method
The Basement Exit (6)
The basement exit only went down.
A Romantic Interlude (25)
They tried their best to make a stairwell work. The angles, the discomfort, the fear of falling made it impossible to keep a romantic mood.
The Stairwell (50)
“What was keeping her?” wondered Damien. It was only two flights of stairs. “Surely she wouldn’t get lost.”
He made up his mind to follow her footsteps. He pushed open the door stepping to the stairs. He spotted something on the next landing.
“Merideth,” was the last word he said.
The New Office (100)
Being banished to the stairwell was the ultimate punishment at the law firm McCoy, McCoy, McCoy and Real. No desk, no phone, an ancient Microsoft computer was all he had.
“Mr. Dunkenfield?” asked a head in the door opening.
“Yes.”
“A customer.”
‘You a lawyer?” his new customer asked as he pushed his way into the room.
“Yes.”
“Don’t need one. Are you a barrister?”
Yes.”
“Don’t need one”
“What do you need?”
“A therapist.”
“A therapist? Why do you need one?
“This isn’t practicing law. It’s embarrassing. You need a therapist. That’s me. Let’s get you out of here.”
The Right Floor (150)
He huffed as he opened the door. He panted his way to the office in the corner. Having climbed 40 sets of stairs to deliver his boss's note was not enjoyable but it had to be done. The elevator was out of service.
“Who are you?” asked a pert young woman from the doorway
"I’m Davy Jones,” he replied. “My boss sent me with a note for Alex Wheedlewacker.”
She looked amused. “Well that is interesting. You climbed 40 sets of stairs to deliver the note?
“Yes.”
“Mr. Wheedlewacker works on the 3rd floor.”
“I came all this way for nothing?” Davy Jones huffed.
“You won’t walk away empty handed,” Audrey said as she picked up a pen and jotted a note.
He started towards the door when she handed him the card. “What’s this?” he asked.
“Give me a call,” she smiled. “Your efforts have been given a date.”
[ A Room With No View, 50 ]
The landlady shows me to the tiny room where I’m to live in this urban wilderness of Barcelona. It’s painted entirely in a deep, thunderous red. It has no windows, and seems to be furnished primarily with cats. “Excuse me,” I venture, “is it too late to cancel?
Confused 6
Other side stairs are broken down.
The Invader, 6
MY broom cupboard smelled smoky today.