Fiction writers: You’re stuck in an elevator with an intriguing stranger. Write this scene.

Non-fiction writers: You’re stuck in an elevator with a person from your past. Write this scene.


I got in the elevator to head up to the 3rd floor to visit my friend who’d just had a baby, the elevator was quite full, but on the 2nd floor everyone spilled out except for an older gentleman. I glanced at him then nearly fell on the floor “Dad? Wow how are you?” My heart did the usual flutter of fear whenever I think of my Dad, but seeing him was terrifying. Not because he was a violent man, but because he was an absent man, he left when I was 4 and only saw him a handful of times in my adult life. I always wanted to get to know him better, but it was always awkward and he was always so emotionally distant. Which is understandable I guess.

It was a very quick conversation, he said he was well, and that I looked well, we exchanged numbers and he said he’d ring me for a good catch up and take me out to dinner.

Still waiting, actually no I’m not. Still waiting is the bad habit like the drug I no longer need.