Mercy
06-06-2012, 04:06 PM
I am skipping the preamble and going straight for the story:
It was the second night of my first major fantasy/sci-fi convention and I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. All the people, noise, and visual insanity had me on edge and I was rushing, as much as a pair of six inch stilettos and a severely tightened corset would allow, to meet my friends for the awards banquet. The bank of lifts in the lobby resembled the nearby Atlanta freeway during rush hour. Planning my steps judiciously, I was the last one to exit the lift I had ridden down to the mezzanine, while impatient con' goers wishing to ascend jostled each other to take over the car I was about to vacate.
I looked down to secure my footing before crossing the lift's threshold then looked up into the face of an older gentleman with an expression of bemused resignation waiting to enter. Images of childhood and other-worldly places flashed through my mind for a moment. Before I could utter a sound, the swarm of bodies was threatening to shove me back into the lift while pushing the gentleman aside. This was an outrage! Planting both feet, arms spread across the doorway, I scolded the crowd of nerds, geeks, and basement dwellers.
"Don't you people know who this man is? This is Ray Bradbury; he is the bloody guest of honor! No one gets on before him."
The undulations of the crowd ceased for a moment. All the madness of the convention resolved into perfect order for a brief moment and I no longer felt like flotsam at the mercy of an ocean of chaos. I continued to make eye contact with the con' goers immediately before me as I stepped out into the throng, silently challenging anyone to move past me. Arms falling to my sides, I sheepishly glanced back to Mr. Bradbury, "After you, sir, and.., thank you". There was a quiet, "thank you," and a brief smile as he passed into the car. The lift continued to fill and once again I was surrounded by chaos.
It was the second night of my first major fantasy/sci-fi convention and I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. All the people, noise, and visual insanity had me on edge and I was rushing, as much as a pair of six inch stilettos and a severely tightened corset would allow, to meet my friends for the awards banquet. The bank of lifts in the lobby resembled the nearby Atlanta freeway during rush hour. Planning my steps judiciously, I was the last one to exit the lift I had ridden down to the mezzanine, while impatient con' goers wishing to ascend jostled each other to take over the car I was about to vacate.
I looked down to secure my footing before crossing the lift's threshold then looked up into the face of an older gentleman with an expression of bemused resignation waiting to enter. Images of childhood and other-worldly places flashed through my mind for a moment. Before I could utter a sound, the swarm of bodies was threatening to shove me back into the lift while pushing the gentleman aside. This was an outrage! Planting both feet, arms spread across the doorway, I scolded the crowd of nerds, geeks, and basement dwellers.
"Don't you people know who this man is? This is Ray Bradbury; he is the bloody guest of honor! No one gets on before him."
The undulations of the crowd ceased for a moment. All the madness of the convention resolved into perfect order for a brief moment and I no longer felt like flotsam at the mercy of an ocean of chaos. I continued to make eye contact with the con' goers immediately before me as I stepped out into the throng, silently challenging anyone to move past me. Arms falling to my sides, I sheepishly glanced back to Mr. Bradbury, "After you, sir, and.., thank you". There was a quiet, "thank you," and a brief smile as he passed into the car. The lift continued to fill and once again I was surrounded by chaos.