"I'll try calling the technician." A glowing rectangle shone out of the dark.
Modern magic, Gene sighed with relief. "Good idea."
"Can you read me the phone number?"
It was dead black in the box. She ran her hand over the panel where the buttons lay, and bent down to where the emergency information should be. "Can't see..."
"I hope you're a smoker?" The thin light from the phone showed his half-hearted smile. "That's the first time I've ever said that."
"No."
"I'll shine this-" He leaned over her to aim the light at the paper. If she wasn't crouched, he wouldn't be tall enough to lean over her. He was an inch shorter than her, she figured.
"You know, I think I do have a lighter." Pretending to scratch around in her bag, she elbowed him away. Blocking the view with her back, she snapped her fingers. She snapped again.
"It's fine, Genevieve, I'll just use the phone."
She snarled a strange, glottal word and snapped, and a spurt of light danced between her thumb and index finger. She read by its glow, "746-89-"
She walls and floor shook and she snapped up. The elevator rumbled again, and she looked at Sam. "What was that?"
"I don't know...hey, where's your lighter?" He saw the flame held in place by nothing, just her fingers.
She snapped it gone. But she didn't have to think of an excuse because the elevator shuddered anxiously, creaked in amusement at them, and fell.
Her co-worker's gut reaction was to yell "Genevieve" and grab her waist. Her gut reaction was to suck as much air as she could into her lungs and blow an airpocket around them. When the box hit the ground floor, they bounced lightly off the ground, rebounded off the ceiling and settled into the middle.
"Ding!" The elevator announced, with bright lights and opening doors. The screen read "1" and the lobby was ready for them to come out.
Sam opened his eyes and saw their feet, hovering six inches above the floor. "Did you see that? Did you...DO that?"
"Ah, damn!" She grabbed his tie, pulled his face up, and kissed him.
Modern magic, Gene sighed with relief. "Good idea."
"Can you read me the phone number?"
It was dead black in the box. She ran her hand over the panel where the buttons lay, and bent down to where the emergency information should be. "Can't see..."
"I hope you're a smoker?" The thin light from the phone showed his half-hearted smile. "That's the first time I've ever said that."
"No."
"I'll shine this-" He leaned over her to aim the light at the paper. If she wasn't crouched, he wouldn't be tall enough to lean over her. He was an inch shorter than her, she figured.
"You know, I think I do have a lighter." Pretending to scratch around in her bag, she elbowed him away. Blocking the view with her back, she snapped her fingers. She snapped again.
"It's fine, Genevieve, I'll just use the phone."
She snarled a strange, glottal word and snapped, and a spurt of light danced between her thumb and index finger. She read by its glow, "746-89-"
She walls and floor shook and she snapped up. The elevator rumbled again, and she looked at Sam. "What was that?"
"I don't know...hey, where's your lighter?" He saw the flame held in place by nothing, just her fingers.
She snapped it gone. But she didn't have to think of an excuse because the elevator shuddered anxiously, creaked in amusement at them, and fell.
Her co-worker's gut reaction was to yell "Genevieve" and grab her waist. Her gut reaction was to suck as much air as she could into her lungs and blow an airpocket around them. When the box hit the ground floor, they bounced lightly off the ground, rebounded off the ceiling and settled into the middle.
"Ding!" The elevator announced, with bright lights and opening doors. The screen read "1" and the lobby was ready for them to come out.
Sam opened his eyes and saw their feet, hovering six inches above the floor. "Did you see that? Did you...DO that?"
"Ah, damn!" She grabbed his tie, pulled his face up, and kissed him.
