People come into your life for a reason. Sometimes it takes a while to figure out what that reason is--but there's always one. And this short story was inspired by that theory.
photo by ldyck
The elevator door slid closed and my boyfriend fell against a wall. I fell on top of him--lips first. Wet kisses. Ryan's lips are thick like an overstuffed leather loveseat. I could stay there forever, but he shoved me off. He...shoved...me? That wasn't like him. He knew how lucky he was to be with me. We'd only been together four weeks, but he knew. I mean, come on. I notice how guys look at me. I have a body other women would kill for. I'm not exaggerating. Kill. I'm a goddess.
Holding me at arm's length, he looked across the car when he said, "Sorry, we didn't see you there."
Hidden in shadow, dressed in black, she was more like a wraith than a woman--and not our concern.
I pushed my way to Ryan's lips, but he held me still. "Wait."
Her black stringy hair swayed as she reached for the elevator panel. "I'm sorry. I'll...I'll get off here and use the stairs." Her fat sausage index finger reached for the button.
Finally, we'll be alone, was what I thought, but Ryan said, "No, you have every right to use this elevator. We're the ones in the wrong."
Her face cracked into an awkward grin. "Thank you," she mumbled to the floor.
That's how I met her. She must have lived somewhere in the building but it was like she was the ghost of the elevator. She was always there.
A couple of days ago she was--as usual--lurking in the elevator when I got on. She was quiet for a while, but then she said, "He used to be my boyfriend. He used to call me sexy."
That's when I knew she was crazy. I mean it can't be true. It...it can't be...