Exercise: Spend a total of 30 minutes writing. Pick a scene idea and see what you can do with it (from Immediate Fiction by Jerry Cleaver).
Scene: Trapped on a ski lift, on an airplane, or in a taxi with someone who starts talking or acting strange. The want is to be left alone, to be at peace, to be safe. The obstacle is this weird person who is acting strange and maybe is dangerous.
I stood tapping my foot impatiently as I waited for the elevator doors to open. I was late. Again. After what seemed like hours, I heard the familiar ding signaling that the elevator had arrived, and the doors finally slid open slowly as if taunting me. I really wished the landlord would have someone take a look at the elevator, which had been unreliable for at least the past month. I quickly stepped in and nodded a casual hello to the man already on the elevator. I didn't recognize him, which was unusual because I'd lived in my apartment for six years and knew just about all the other tenants. But I just assumed he was a friend visiting another tenant and didn't think much of it.
The elevator doors closed, and the elevator started its descent, taunting me again with its unhurried speed. I'm not sure why, but as the elevator slowly crept toward the first floor I started to feel a bit uneasy. It was one of those sixth sense feelings, the kind where the hair on the back of your neck stands up and you're suddenly much more aware of every little sound and movement. Without turning my head, I looked out of the corner of my eye at the man on the elevator with me. Was it just my imagination, or had he gotten closer? Pull it together, Jessie, I thought to myself, and almost laughed out loud at my silly unease.
All of the sudden, the elevator made a horrible groaning sound and eased to a stop. "Are you kidding me," I muttered. Out of all the times for the elevator to finally announce that it was done working, this was about the worst time for it to happen. I was going to be late for work for the third time this month, and my boss was not going to be happy about that. Not to mention the hair on the back of my neck that was still standing up, warning me to be prepared for something.
Deciding to listen to the hair, I stole another quick glance at the man. This time I knew it was not my imagination. He had definitely gotten closer to me, and even though I wasn't looking at his face, I could feel his eyes on me. His arm started moving toward me, and I did a mental head slap for not listening to my mom when she told me to take those self defense classes. I could practically hear her saying "I told you so" the next time I saw her. That is if I ever saw her again.
As his arm got closer, I frantically thought about the contents of my purse. Did I have anything that could be used to defend myself? A small bottle of hand sanitizer, a package of tissues, a brochure from the gym that I still hadn't joined, and my wallet, which contained a grand total of $3.15, the exact amount to buy an egg salad sandwich and small soda from the deli next to my office. Nope, nothing that I could use to defend myself. Well, maybe I could squirt the hand sanitizer in his eyes to temporarily distract him, but that would take a lot of luck and coordination, and neither seemed to be my area of strength.
This is it, I thought as his arm neared my neck. This is how it's all going to end. Not ready to leave this world without a fight, I blindly started fumbling in my purse for the hand sanitzer, my only hope. My fingers found the bottle and I secured it in my hand, flipping the cap open with my thumb in preparation for my attack. I took a deep breath, tightened my grip on the bottle, pulled it out of my purse and in one quick motion spun around and gave it a good hard squeeze right in the man's face, just as he reached his hand forward and pushed the "1" button on the elevator.
"What the hell?" he cried, his hands moving to his face to wipe the clear liquid away.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry!" I said, giving myself another mental head slap for being so stupid. "I thought you were going to attack me."
