New York

I was in a New York skyscraper and was travelling in a lift to the two hundredth floor when I became aware of some odd irregular movements, particularly while the lift travelled at speed past the floors. Its upward motion slowed to a crawl as my floor came into sight.  Relieved I’d stepped through the sliding doors and saw the correct floor sign mounted in giant white numbers on the wall opposite.  I walked across the lobby and confidently opened a door that led into a large empty open-plan office.  There must have been twenty desks spread across the room, all unoccupied and bare of laptops, phones and screens. It struck me as a little unusual but I’d worked in an American pharmaceutical company a few years back and they took tidy desks to a whole new level. Tonight  I thought this might just be another of those companies. I felt my shoes sink into the thick grey carpet as I walked over to the window. So this is what the Manhattan skyline looks like from three thousand two hundred and eighty feet above the ground?  Impressive. As I walked along the length of the window I felt the whole building sway gently. I remembered reading somewhere that modern buildings were designed to sway a bit when the winds got up. Architects may skillfully design these little quirks to protect building integrity but humans have to live and work in those buildings, for hours on end, day after day. I tell you right now, I could not work here. I mean, spending my days watching my pencil roll from side to side across my desk, no sir.

Disturbed by the movement I still couldn’t take my eyes off the view. I realised that I could see for miles and that every mile featured more and more super-sized office blocks.  In amongst them, the odd helicopter flew from rooftop to rooftop.  They reminded me of bees flying about collecting pollen from the lazy flowers of summer in our garden.

Looking directly below, as the building took one of its quirky motions I thought could make out pedestrians walking. If I’m honest with you, all I could see were blobs of tiny black moving spots.  I felt a touch of vertigo coming on and suddenly I remembered that I hated heights with a passion!

 I stepped away from the window and grabbed a corner of an office desk to steady myself. I felt my stomach heave and I searched in vain for a waste bin I could chunder into. I couldn’t find one so I gulped the sick back down my throat. I wasn’t going to redecorate this pristine shaggy carpet if I could at all avoid it.

I think that was the moment when things got a whole lot worse.  I looked up and saw in the distance a wall of dark blue advancing towards me. I watched fascinated as it enveloped the streets and building ten blocks away. Somehow I instinctively knew what it was and the realisation struck like a dagger to my heart. I watched in horror as it swallowed up the high-rise blocks one after the other. It was steadily drawing closer and I felt an overpowering urge to flee.

I noticed now that my buildings swaying movements had increased. I  watched in horror as it now leaned forward almost doubling over. Its deep downward movement threw me against the glass window which fortunately didn’t shatter.  I slid to the floor as the building straightened up and I made a dash across the office. My steps became giant strides and I fought gravity to keep moving as the building swaying motion began again. Bursting out into the corridor I knew I had seconds in which to escape and I didn’t trust the lift to help me. I yanked open the fire door and started running down the stairs as fast as I dare, two or three steps at a time. I expected the building to be hit by that wall of water at any time.

Rationalising the situation in my fevered mind I felt that if I could reach the ground floor maybe, just maybe I could hide out in a basement office with sealed doors. If I survived the first moments maybe I could survive in an air bubble for days. My feet barely touched the steps as I hurtled down the stairs. I heard a crunching impact come from above and that’s when I decided to improvise,  to move faster at any price. I swung my legs out over the metal stair railings and drop a full floor at a time. It was an act of reckless sheer desperation. Three times I swung and three floors were done. I landed heavily the fourth time and heard a loud crack.  Pain shot up my left leg and I surmised I’d probably broken my ankle.  It looked normal enough but I’d done it once before and that was the sound it made back then. I glanced at the floor sign on the wall opposite.

Floor one hundred and ninety-two.

I wasn’t going to make it was I? Not this time. I glanced about and saw a discarded plastic sheet on the floor a few feet away. I reached for it and drew it over me. There I lay on the cold concrete floor, panting and listening. I didn’t want to see the water, I didn’t want to feel the pain, I didn’t want anything but if it had to be, a swift end. 

Outside my sheet, all remained quiet. I lay still for a long time. I think I may have passed out for I had no idea what amount of time that had passed. It was now dark outside my sheet probably because the power generators had sunk under galleons of water and the lights had failed. But later when I came to again I found that things were brightening up beyond by sheet. Did I dare to peer out?  I peered nervously beyond my sheet and found that I was staring across my bedroom.  What I gripped tightly over my head was now my blanket.

I had lived to die another night