Basement Holiday

I heard it again, the noise in the elevator that sounds just like laughter. I was hired to clean the building and prepare it for sale, but the echo of childish laughter is too distracting. I've been hearing it all week, since I started this contract cleaning job on Monday.

This office building can't be resold if a child is laughing in the basement. I imagine, anyway. I've never worked in real estate law. Or real estate. Or law. 

I turned the key inserted into the elevator wall, over to "All Access Floors" and then I pressed the button that would take me to the basement. 

I can't think of any other excuses not to investigate it at this point. 

The elevator started to creak and lurch downward, just like my stomach. 

"It's probably a pipe or something," I said out loud, hoping it would be comforting.

It wasn't comforting.

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Basement Holiday

an original short story by juno stump