Shards of Moonlight || A Short-story Collection

The Elevator - Hum

- "Any last words?"

- "Oooh, this feels like riding my unicorn."

- "We're all gonna die!! I am not even on camera!!"

The hinges of the first-class elevator hissed in pain as it came to a jolting halt. Spotless panes mirrored how three people and a half struggled to keep their balance and a safety distance of two meters. The economist inspected his nails thoroughly before scrupulously removing tiny speckles of dust from them, only to be interrupted by a twisted heel driving through his Gucci shoe. "Aghh, what the hell woman?", he screamed in agony only to look up or rather down at a bearded, red face located least three feet closer to the ground. "Woman? How dare you! Y'all new money folk are so sexist!", the heeled human being in a short, classy black dress wailed. "Sorry, not sorry dwarf," the economist shrugged pulling at his fashionable black face mask.

A gasp interrupted the bickering as a lumpy male with a nuclear face mask stared at his counterpart in visible shock. "It is hyperventilating! Call an ambulance!"

Collapsing in a heap of long legs and arms, a blondie covered her face with her hands while muttering the mantra of "aliens, aliens, it's them."

"This time it IS a woman," the economist reprimanded the nuclear face mask that looked like it came straight out of an apocalyptic movie, "and why the hell are you wearing that mask?" Nuclear mask hummed in confusion and felt his face up.

"Cause of that whole Corona-thing, sir?"

Meanwhile the dwarf had pulled out an IPhone 11 and dialed a number: "Nancy?? Why can't I come through? Are we in a- what was it? Black hole or tunnel? No, no, a dead spot!"

"I will be dead on this spot", the blondie whimpered, her arms slung around her knees, seesawing back and forth.

"You all will be the death of me, I feel dizzy already. How come you imbeciles are even at this five star retreat?", the economist sighed rubbing his temples and deciding on disinfecting his hands for the fourth time.

"Nancy that mentally retarded cannot even tell who I am! The star reporter of Fox News," the reporter snorted while eying the economist in his American mink coat up and down.

"Won da lottery, sir! Am actually a butcher, sir," nuclear replied proudly puffing his chest, pulling out an aluminium-packaging from his bursting, hiking backpack and pointing at the economist's getup, "that real fur, sir?"

The economist wrinkled his nose at the penetrating smell of ham mixed with Tyrolese sausage.

"It's called exotic. Put that thing away, I am never getting that smell out!"

While the reporter screamed at her phone about having to go to therapy, the butcher pouted while making dog's eyes.

"But ma momma made it. She's gonna say I am a bad boy if I do not eat all my six meals."

In all that hustle and bustle the hyperventilating blondie screamed: "Just shut the hell up! The alien invasion just began!" and the elevator started moving upwards.