Fiction writers: You’re stuck in an elevator with an intriguing stranger. Write this scene. From this Daily Prompt post http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/05/24/daily-prompt-elevator/
The elevator door opened, and Sheila stepped in. She pressed the button for the tenth floor and as the doors began to close she heard a woman’s voice shouted, “hold the elevator!” Sheila quickly pressed the ‘door open’ button, the doors opened, and a tall, lithe, blonde woman strode in.
The woman looked to be in her thirties. She wore faded blue jeans, a white t-shirt that exposed a little bit of her midriff, and clunky red shoes that were probably Doc Martens. Sheila just stared at her. She was so beautiful and now Sheila felt frumpy and plain.
The woman pressed the button for the sixteenth floor and moved to the back of the elevator. Without warning, Sheila found herself blurting out the words “you’re very pretty!” The woman smiled and said, “thank you.”
“Are you a model?” Sheila asked.
“Yes I am.”
“What’s it like to be pretty? I imagine it has its good and bad points.” Sheila said.
The woman tilted her head slightly as she gave the question some thought. “Well, I suppose that’s true. You work with what life gives you I guess.”
“I’ve heard that pretty women have trouble getting dates because men are intimidated by them. Is that true?” Sheila ventured.
The woman sighed and said, “Are you writing a paper or something? How is it that you feel comfortable asking personal questions of complete strangers?”
Sheila’s heart sank, and she felt herself move closer to the elevator doors. “You’re right, that was inappropriate. I’m a nosy person. Everyone has always said that I’m nosy. I blurt things out. I talk too much. I’m a total dweeb.”
The woman, feeling bad about snapping at Sheila, put a hand on her shoulder and said, “No, I’m sorry for snapping at you. I have to say that strangers don’t talk to me much. My friends say that people think I must be stuck up or something. It ‘s not always easy being pretty.”
The elevator doors opened, they had arrived at the 10th floor. Sheila stepped off, turned around, and said “It was nice talking to you.”
“You too,” the woman replied.
The elevator doors closed, and Sheila went on with her day.