Title: Infinite Universes
Warnings: none
Summary: A man and a woman and a stalled elevator. Five universes.
Length: ~2,000 words
Notes: Primarily first person point of view, but with large sections of third person/omniscient. Tense is present. Genre includes romance and a bit of sci-fi. I'm going to go with "general".
Infinite Universes
One moment can happen an infinite number ways in an infinite number of universes. Take what happened this morning, for example. I can easily think of a few different alternatives, probably playing out in other universes.
Universe One:
A man wakes up almost late for work because his alarm clock didn’t go off. Cursing, he launches himself out of bed, throws on the nearest shirt and pants, grabs an apple for breakfast, and rushes outside. He debates whether to take the elevator or the stairs but ultimately decides that as he’s fourteen stories up, the elevator would be faster. He runs to the elevator, just getting inside before the door closes. There is only one other woman inside. She seems to be in her early thirties, like the man is.
The man and the woman wait in silence. The man is out of breath and the woman glances at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering why he’s in such a hurry. Suddenly, the elevator jerks and stops.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” the man groans, while the woman sighs.
The man stabs the red help button. “Yes?” someone answers on the opposite end of the intercom.
“The elevator’s stalled,” the man says. “Could you please get someone on this quickly? I’m going to be late for work.”
“We’ll do our best, Mister. Just sit tight and we’ll have you out in a jiffy,” the someone responds.
“Okay,” the man says. He leans back on the elevator wall and sighs, glancing at the woman, who has remained silent. She looks at him, but before they exchange anything more than glances, the elevator suddenly starts moving again.
“Oh, excellent,” the woman says. The man only nods in agreement, already preparing to double his pace in order to arrive at work on time.
Seconds later, the elevator doors open and the man and the woman go their separate ways, still strangers.
Universe Two:
A man wakes up on time with his alarm clock. He carefully selects a suit, brushes his teeth, styles his hair, and makes a bagel for breakfast. Then he leaves his room, walking into the elevator. There is only one other person inside, a red-headed woman clutching her purse. The man nods at her in greeting and presses the button for lobby. The elevator descends slowly, but then jerks to a stop.
“Oh, no,” the man says. The woman groans. The man presses the red help button.
“Elevator’s stalled,” he says. “Please hurry – I don’t want to be late for work.”
“We’ll do our best, sir,” someone on the other end of the line promises.
The man leans against the elevator wall and turns to the woman. “I guess we’re stuck here.”
“I guess we are,” the woman responds.
They are silent for a while. The man huffs a laugh. “This is so cliché.”
The woman “Mmms” in agreement. “By the end of this, I guess we’ll be kissing.”
The man, stressed about possibly missing work, doesn’t bother to glance at the woman and just scoffs. “I doubt that.”
The woman, insulted, says, “You don’t have to displace your anger on to me. I was just reading some of Freud’s work – displacement is a classic defense mechanism. You’re angry at being stuck in the elevator, but since you can’t realistically yell at the elevator, you’re taking out your anger on me.”
“Yeah, whatever, I’m not really fond of being psychoanalyzed.”
The man and the woman wait in tense silence for another twenty minutes, but it feels more like an hour. Finally, the elevator begins to move again.
“Thank God,” the man says. He had been increasingly worried about being late for work, but he has enough time if he doubles his pace.
The elevator doors begin to open as the woman says, “Hey, I’m sorry for spitting out psychobabble at you. I just thought it was interesting.”
But the man, focused on getting to his job on time, doesn’t respond and rushes out of the elevator. The woman, miffed, walks slowly in the other direction, and the two part as worse-than-strangers, not-quite-enemies, definitely-not-friends.
Universe Three:
A man wakes up already late because his alarm didn’t go off. Lying in bed, he debates whether he even wants to show up to work late, or if he shouldn’t go at all. He finally decides to go anyway, picking out an outfit and grabbing an apple for breakfast. He heads toward the elevator, when he sees the doors closing.
“Hold those doors!” he shouts, speeding up. He gets there in time, and sees a red-haired woman with blue painted nails holding the doors for him.
“Thanks,” the man pants.
“Sure,” the woman replies.
The elevator starts downward, but stops with a jerk. The man rolls his eyes and the woman sighs.
“At least I was already late,” the man mutters before pressing the red help button.
“Excuse me? The elevator’s stalled,” he says.
“We’re on it, Mister,” someone answers.
“Thank you,” the man says. He slides down to sit against the elevator, glancing at the woman.
“I think we’ll be stuck here for a while,” he says. “What’s your name?”
“Miranda,” the woman answers. “And you are?”
“I’m Tom,” the man replies.
“Pleased to meet you. And in an elevator of all places!”
“I know, it’s so cliché, right?” Tom laughs.
“I guess we’re supposed to be kissing by the end of this,” Miranda says.
Tom, slightly startled, looks over at her. She’s smiling, and he realizes how pretty she is. But then he sees a ring glittering on her left hand ring finger. She’s married; she must be joking.
He laughs. “Maybe. But do we really want to fall into that cliché?”
“I guess not,” Miranda replies.
They talk for the rest of the time. Miranda tells Tom about the book on Freud she was reading, and she and Tom try to come up with less cliché excuses for him being extremely late for work besides, “I overslept and then got stuck in an elevator.” Eventually, the elevator starts moving again.
“Oh, excellent,” Miranda says.
“Excellent? I still have to come up with a believable excuse!” Tom jokes.
Miranda smiles. “You’ll think of something. It was nice talking to you, Tom.”
The elevator doors open. “You too,” Tom says, and then heads off to work. Miranda goes in the opposite direction, smiling, because she has just made a new friend.
Universe Four:
Tom wakes up already late for work because his alarm didn’t go off. Deciding to go anyway, he gets ready and goes into the elevator. Miranda holds it for him. He thanks her, and they exchange a smile and a subtle check-out before the elevator jams.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tom says. Miranda laughs. Tom notifies the someone on the other end of the line and then sits down against the wall of the elevator. Miranda delicately joins him.
“I think we’ll be stuck here awhile,” Tom says. “I’m Tom. And you are?”
“Miranda. God, this is so cliché.”
“Yeah.” Tom grins, glancing at Miranda. “I think by the time the elevator moves again we’re supposed to start kissing.”
Miranda smiles at Tom, but then he notices her ring. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Tom says, embarrassed. “I shouldn’t be flirting with a married woman.”
“I’m not married,” Miranda says, confused.
“But your ring –”
“Oh, this? It’s just a nice ring I liked.”
“Oh. You have it in the place where most people wear their wedding rings, you know.”
“Really?” Miranda groans. “That explains why every single man I’ve seen has been avoiding me like the plague. I don’t know how I can read about Freud and Shakespeare and Newton and still not know where a ring is supposed to go.”
“Eh, they’re arbitrary rules anyway,” Tom says. “So, you’re not married?”
“Nope.” Miranda glances at him out of the corner of her eye, and smiles. He’s pretty cute. “So that means the flirting is perfectly alright.”
By the time the elevator starts moving again, they aren’t kissing. But Tom has Miranda’s phone number and has promised to call her tonight so they can set up a date.
“See you later,” Tom says with a smile as the elevator doors open. Who knew getting stuck in the elevator this morning would result in call to set up a date with a beautiful woman tonight?
I’ll stop now, but you get my point. There are so many different actions and reactions, so many choices we make every moment of our lives, so many things that can change. How did it really happen, you ask? Well, there is no “really.” There is no one reality. But I will tell you how it happened in Universe Five – my universe.
Universe Five:
I wake up late for work already because my alarm clock doesn’t go off. Cursing, I fling myself out of bed and rush through my routine before I realize that maybe I shouldn’t even go to work if I’m already late. But eventually I decide better late than never and make it out the door. The elevator doors are closing as I get outside, but someone holds them for me and I make it inside the elevator.
“Thanks,” I pant to the red-headed woman who held the door for me.
“Sure,” she says with a smile. We wait in silence until the elevator jerks and then stops.
“Oh, great,” I groan. Maybe I should’ve stayed in bed.
I press the red help button. “The elevator’s jammed,” I say. “I’d appreciate it if you could get it going quickly.”
“Of course, sir. We’ll do our best,” someone says at the other end of the line. I’m not sure how good their best is, so I sit down to wait. The woman joins me.
“Do you have somewhere you need to be?” she asks curiously. She’s probably wondering why I ran in here and seem so eager to get out. On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t be so eager – this woman is actually quite pretty.
“Just work,” I reply. “And I’m already late, so I guess being later won’t make much of a difference.”
The woman “Mmms” in agreement. We wait for a while in silence, until it starts to feel awkward.
“We might be here a while,” I say. “I guess now is as good a time as any to get to know each other.”
“I guess so,” the woman says. “I’m Miranda. And you are?”
“Tom.”
“Nice to meet you, Tom.”
“Likewise.”
After the introductions, we fall into silence again. After a little while, I say, “Stuck in an elevator. This is so cliché.”
Miranda chuckles. She has a nice laugh. “I guess by the end of this we should be kissing.”
I laugh as well. “Maybe.”
From there, the conversation turns to the books Miranda has read and the mischief her dog has been up to. She’s wearing a ring on her left ring finger, but she doesn’t mention any husband. I don’t bring it up.
Eventually, the elevator starts moving again. I rise to my meet and help Miranda up.
“Thanks,” she says.
“Sure,” I reply. “It was great getting to know you.”
“Yeah,” she responds. “Here, take this.” She writes something on a piece of paper and hands it to me. I glance at it. It’s her phone number.
“I’ll call you,” I say. She nods, and the elevator doors open. I head off to work and she goes in the opposite direction. I place her number in my pocket and smile.
Which universe is the best? There are always better and worse options out there. Unfortunately, Miranda and I aren’t dating (yet). But we aren’t strangers, and we aren’t enemies, and I think we’re on our way to becoming good friends. And pretty soon I’m going to ask her about that ring, and we’ll clear everything up.
There is an infinite number of possiblilites in an infinite number of universes. But eventually, you just have to settle which the universe you’re in, because that’s the best you’re going to get. And I’d say that with me and Miranda, I got it pretty good.
The End! J
I like the premise and execution of your premise. It underscores how we are in control not necessarily of the situation we are in but we are in control of our reactions and that can dramatically shift our reality as you well demonstrate. I found this both enjoyable and thought provoking!
ReplyDelete