Inside

At the sound of the voice, I froze. Immediately afterwards, the silence seemed huge, and with my mouth open in shock, I could hear the ticking of my pulse in my throat.

I have no idea what I was going to say, but I was about to reply when a second voice said, "sorry, Sir. Just nipped out for a fag for a couple of minutes. Get a bit of fresh air."

"Fresh air? Doesn't smell like fresh air to me, son."

"Sorry sir. I'll put it out and get back. But it all gets a bit, kinda, heavy in there, if you know what I mean."

"Aye, I do. And you're right, it can get a bit much. But it's got to be done. Tell you what, finish your smoke: there's nothing spoiling. But when you're done, I want to see your arse back in there, quick smart. Understand?"

"Yes sir, thanks sir - appreciate it. Won't be a minute."

Listening, pressed tight against the wall, I heard the door click shut. The unseen smoker took a long drag, muttered "wanker" to himself and had a short coughing fit.

The minute he'd promised turned into five: after finishing his cigarette, he did some texting, phoned someone I took to be his girlfriend and farted loudly, unselfconsciously and at length.

All these needs taken care of, I could hear him swearing softly and absent-mindedly to himself, presumably trying to find his keycard.

There was a beep and the door clicked open. As he went through, I heard the sound of his feet disappearing down the corridor. Luckily, realising he'd lingered too long, he was in a rush.

I waited, counting seconds in my head, until I thought the time was right. Then I bolted round the corner, pushing at the door. It wouldn't budge. Shit!

I pulled instead, and it opened easily.

Throwing myself inside, I almost smacked into the fire alarm casing jutting out of the wall. As I tried to catch my breath, I heard a click behind me as the door re-locked itself.

I was in.



Story begins here.