Stuck

An earlier than usual Friday night. They walked out of the lift, separate directions unlike if it was a later night. And he noticed a slight figure, her hands pulling at something, struggling to take it away from the jaws of the tightly closed lift. He recognised her, she was the same girl who struggled with her laptop in the mornings walking from the open space car park into the building. At least twice he saw her struggling with that.

He walked over. Tried pressing buttons to see if the lift is the next one to open up for human traffic. But it did not. He then held out his hand, and offered his helped as she slowly let go of the object to his firm hands. Slowly with an up and down outward motion, he carefully extracted the black metal rimmed notebook, trying hard not to damage it. They couldn't speak to each other, the sound of industry strength drills emanated through the lobby, chipping away. But she mouthed a big thank you and he, a no worries.

He remembered that he left something so he stepped into the next open lift. And she did too. And so did someone else. In the what was supposed to be a silent trip up, she giggled continuously, finding the whole incident amusing. He felt slightly uncomfortable, for the other occupant must have thought he did something silly. She walked out halfway through. As the lift sped up to the top, he wondered, how on earth do you get a notebook stuck between the elevator door?