He
looked at his grimy room key. (A key…in today’s age of smart access cards.)
Ryan wondered whether he would reach the 11th floor in this lifetime.
The
ancient lift creaked up the floors of the Sunshine
Hotel agonisingly slowly. Ryan swore that he’d never entrust hotel
bookings to his travel agent again.
He
was the sole occupant in the lift. Yet, it kept on stopping at every floor. The
flyspecked bulb glowed dimly.
A
soft ding announced the arrival of his floor. But to Ryan’s consternation, it
didn’t stop. The light flickered and died.
Behind him, he heard a giggle.
About
101 Words
My
story 'The 11th Floor' got published on 101words.org – a platform for stories that are exactly 101 words long.