Eleanor first noticed the hole on a Monday. It was midnight on the dot when a black spot on the ceiling caught her eye. Dragging her wooden desk chair to the center of her studio apartment, she stood upon the seat of the chair and looked up at the hole. It was barely an inch wide. Curious, Eleanor stuck her right index finger into it. When she drew her finger out, it appeared as it always did. “Hm.”
By the time morning arrived, it was at least five inches wider. She also noticed that her favorite hair brush, gold-gilded with white bristles, was missing. Grabbing her desk chair again along with duct tape and a sheet of paper, she taped the paper over the hole. “There.”
Tuesday morning, the first thing that Eleanor noticed was that the paper over the hole was gone and the hole had grown five more inches, making it a total of eleven inches wide. She also noticed that the potted plant she kept on the small round dining table was gone. It had been a gift from her dad.
Eleanor, who had a degree in English from an Ivy League (but no work experience whatsoever), reported to work at ten. She was a secretary, or “administrative assistant,” as her boss liked to call her. It was the politically correct term, he said (as if she did something more than answering his calls and pouring his coffee).,She worked at a small company that made novelty toys and devices.
Eleanor was checking her email on the computer at her desk when someone slipped a hat over her head.
“New prototype just came in. What do you think?” a voice asked as she turned around in her swivel chair. Oliver stood there in front of her, grinning like a mad man. She started to smile back but quickly stopped herself. Reaching up, she took the hat off her head, looked down, and investigated it.
“You do realize that beer can holder hard hats aren’t something new, right?” she said curtly, handing the item back to him and re-adjusting the bobby pins that had been holding her bun in place.
“Yeah, but did you notice that it was painted pink? It’ll appeal to women,” he said with a smile. Eleanor huffed out a laugh.
“Cute,” she said, before turning around and looking at her screen. But Oliver persisted.
“You know it doesn’t just hold beer—”
“I know. It can hold cans of coke or any other type of soda can. Do you see where I’m going with this?” she looked up at him with a smirk.
“Fine, smart ass. Here.” He handed the hat to her.
“Thanks, Oliver, I’ll put it to good use,” she said wryly.
“You better,” he said with a grin before he walked back to his desk. She watched him forlornly. Damn ‘no office romances’ and damn this office, too. Eleanor didn’t want to admit it, but she was stuck at a dead end.
When Eleanor got home that evening, the hole had grown wider. It had only been eleven inches that morning and now it was at least two feet wide. She also noticed that her spinning globe was missing. The one that her mother bought her when she won the spelling bee in the fourth grade. Perplexed and a little perturbed, she dragged her desk chair right under the hole and stood on it. The inside of the hole was pitch black as far as she could tell. There was no evidence of the ceiling above her, nothing. Just darkness. Tentatively, she raised her arm over her head and stuck her hand in. When she pulled it back out, her hand appeared normal. Eleanor sighed, got off the chair, and dragged it back to her desk.
By Friday morning, the hole had gotten so large it took up almost all of the ceiling, leaving only the edges visible. Many of Eleanor’s things had disappeared as well. One of the dining chairs, the large area rug in the middle of her apartment, and her coffee table, along with everything on top of it.
“Eleanor?”
She looked away from a small dent in her desk at work to find Oliver standing there in front of her. “You okay? You seem a little…”
“No, I’m not,” she replied honestly, with a sigh. “Is it something I can maybe help you with?” He asked. Good ol’ Oliver, she thought.
“Do you know anything about home repair?”
“Like what? Fixing toilets?”
“No, I mean there’s a hole in my ceiling and it keeps getting bigger.”
“Oh, well, my dad owns a hardware store back home so I know a thing or two.”
“Wanna come over to my apartment after work, then?” she asked nervously.
“Sure.”
Oliver looked up at the ceiling in disbelief. “Holy…”
“Yeah, I know.” Eleanor stared up at the ceiling (or lack thereof) as well.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Since Monday. It kept getting bigger.”
“And you didn’t do anything about it?”
“Well, I taped paper over it, but the hole ate it up,” she replied.
“Oh.” Oliver began walking around the edge of her apartment, still looking up at the hole.
“Oliver?”
“What?” he asked as he looked over at her. She ran over to him and grabbed his hand. He was floating several inches off the ground, up towards the hole. She strained with effort trying to keep him tethered to the ground.
“O-Oliver!”
“It’s okay, Eleanor—” He began, gripping her hand with both of his as the lower half of his body rose up above his head.
She shook her head and gritted her teeth. “You’re going to disappear, too, if I let you go!”
“Then come with me.”
She looked at him in disbelief before looking at the hole above them. It was big and dark. It was scary.
“Please, Oliver—”
“Come with me, Eleanor.” There was a certain calmness to his voice like he knew all the answers.
Nodding a little, Eleanor let herself go.
By the time morning arrived, it was at least five inches wider. She also noticed that her favorite hair brush, gold-gilded with white bristles, was missing. Grabbing her desk chair again along with duct tape and a sheet of paper, she taped the paper over the hole. “There.”
Tuesday morning, the first thing that Eleanor noticed was that the paper over the hole was gone and the hole had grown five more inches, making it a total of eleven inches wide. She also noticed that the potted plant she kept on the small round dining table was gone. It had been a gift from her dad.
Eleanor, who had a degree in English from an Ivy League (but no work experience whatsoever), reported to work at ten. She was a secretary, or “administrative assistant,” as her boss liked to call her. It was the politically correct term, he said (as if she did something more than answering his calls and pouring his coffee).,She worked at a small company that made novelty toys and devices.
Eleanor was checking her email on the computer at her desk when someone slipped a hat over her head.
“New prototype just came in. What do you think?” a voice asked as she turned around in her swivel chair. Oliver stood there in front of her, grinning like a mad man. She started to smile back but quickly stopped herself. Reaching up, she took the hat off her head, looked down, and investigated it.
“You do realize that beer can holder hard hats aren’t something new, right?” she said curtly, handing the item back to him and re-adjusting the bobby pins that had been holding her bun in place.
“Yeah, but did you notice that it was painted pink? It’ll appeal to women,” he said with a smile. Eleanor huffed out a laugh.
“Cute,” she said, before turning around and looking at her screen. But Oliver persisted.
“You know it doesn’t just hold beer—”
“I know. It can hold cans of coke or any other type of soda can. Do you see where I’m going with this?” she looked up at him with a smirk.
“Fine, smart ass. Here.” He handed the hat to her.
“Thanks, Oliver, I’ll put it to good use,” she said wryly.
“You better,” he said with a grin before he walked back to his desk. She watched him forlornly. Damn ‘no office romances’ and damn this office, too. Eleanor didn’t want to admit it, but she was stuck at a dead end.
When Eleanor got home that evening, the hole had grown wider. It had only been eleven inches that morning and now it was at least two feet wide. She also noticed that her spinning globe was missing. The one that her mother bought her when she won the spelling bee in the fourth grade. Perplexed and a little perturbed, she dragged her desk chair right under the hole and stood on it. The inside of the hole was pitch black as far as she could tell. There was no evidence of the ceiling above her, nothing. Just darkness. Tentatively, she raised her arm over her head and stuck her hand in. When she pulled it back out, her hand appeared normal. Eleanor sighed, got off the chair, and dragged it back to her desk.
By Friday morning, the hole had gotten so large it took up almost all of the ceiling, leaving only the edges visible. Many of Eleanor’s things had disappeared as well. One of the dining chairs, the large area rug in the middle of her apartment, and her coffee table, along with everything on top of it.
“Eleanor?”
She looked away from a small dent in her desk at work to find Oliver standing there in front of her. “You okay? You seem a little…”
“No, I’m not,” she replied honestly, with a sigh. “Is it something I can maybe help you with?” He asked. Good ol’ Oliver, she thought.
“Do you know anything about home repair?”
“Like what? Fixing toilets?”
“No, I mean there’s a hole in my ceiling and it keeps getting bigger.”
“Oh, well, my dad owns a hardware store back home so I know a thing or two.”
“Wanna come over to my apartment after work, then?” she asked nervously.
“Sure.”
Oliver looked up at the ceiling in disbelief. “Holy…”
“Yeah, I know.” Eleanor stared up at the ceiling (or lack thereof) as well.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Since Monday. It kept getting bigger.”
“And you didn’t do anything about it?”
“Well, I taped paper over it, but the hole ate it up,” she replied.
“Oh.” Oliver began walking around the edge of her apartment, still looking up at the hole.
“Oliver?”
“What?” he asked as he looked over at her. She ran over to him and grabbed his hand. He was floating several inches off the ground, up towards the hole. She strained with effort trying to keep him tethered to the ground.
“O-Oliver!”
“It’s okay, Eleanor—” He began, gripping her hand with both of his as the lower half of his body rose up above his head.
She shook her head and gritted her teeth. “You’re going to disappear, too, if I let you go!”
“Then come with me.”
She looked at him in disbelief before looking at the hole above them. It was big and dark. It was scary.
“Please, Oliver—”
“Come with me, Eleanor.” There was a certain calmness to his voice like he knew all the answers.
Nodding a little, Eleanor let herself go.
