Quickie

The elevator door closes. Trapped for ten floors. Me and him. Eyes towards the ground. My elbow at his arm. Coincidentally. Focus on this point of contact. Physical. Streaks of electricity along the paths of my nerves. Up my arm. Reaching my breasts. Reaching my flesh. Muscle tension, miniature shivers. Tiny hairs erected. Holding my breath. His arm shifts away. The connection has been broken. Looking up, pupils wide. Brown eyes staring back. Unfamiliar. "Have we met before?" No, not really.