Up and Down

Last night was the first night in almost a week that I did not dream about trains. Instead, I was in the elevator of my high school with a girl I have not been friends with in 10 years. I have the feeling that we were to some degree playing the parts of Serena and Blair from Gossip Girl, although I am not sure which one of us was which girl. We're both blonde.

We were arguing, and riding the elevator up to the top of the school. I got frustrated with her, and pressed the button for the 10th floor. She and I both watched as the elevator reached ten and did not stop, but continued up to the top floor, not pausing, not breaking, hit the roof, and fell slowly back down to the basement. We were silent for a while, as the elevator continued to rise and fall through the building. I pressed the brake, the alarm, the pause button, picked up the emergency phone--nothing worked, nothing helped. This went on for a while, until we both realized we had cell phones, and began to call people in the outside world for help. My friend called the CIA, and demanded to be connected to the local police department. Just then, the elevator landed calmly on the first floor and the doors opened. We both raced out into the lobby, and I ran, incensed, into the administration office. There were many women in flowered dresses wandering around the room, shifting piles of paper. I went to each of them in turn, trying to tell my story, and they all looked at me blankly before continuing on with their work.

"We were in there for an hour! We could have been killed!"

I didn't get a response.