“We're falling off the edge of the world…”

~ Black Sabbath, Falling Off the Edge of the World



It’s the stuff nightmares are made of.

As her feet slid into the 3.5 inch wedge heels this morning, she did not worry. These are the heels that she wears when she wants comfortable sexiness. There was a hot date last night. That was most definitely on her mind. But not the heels.

The door shuffled closed and an eerie sound teased her eardrums. It’s the sound of wind whistling through or past a small opening. Not unlike the wind on The Sounds of Halloween albums or “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.” Unsettling and it causes a slight shake.

“Is that my legs?” She thinks to herself. “No, it can’t be.”

She’s right.

The button is lit up but… “Am I going anywhere?”

Her eyes widen as she realizes that the elevator has not moved.

“Stay calm. Just press open. Stick your finger out and touch it. This will all be resolved.”

Her finger disobeys and hits 1, not once, but twice.

The howl of the wind seems to thicken and turn up the volume. She shakes. This time, her legs are the culprits.

“Open!” She mouths as the finger hits the correct button. Tears well up in her eyes and the blood rushes to her cheeks. Claustrophobia brushes past her, around her, replacing the air inside of the sealed room and engulfing her.

A familiar, yet unsteady movement and the elevator levitates to a stop. What floor could this be? What if the door doesn’t open? Endless questions and attempts to quell the tears, dam them up and save them for later when they are more warranted.

The door opens after an uncomfortable pause. She breathes heavily. The guard gives a friendly nod and a look of concern. He verifies that he and several others have had the same experience.

She remembers again why she avoids elevators- not just for exercise reasons. No matter what heels are on her feet, the stairs it is.


My nightmare come true.