The Penthouse Apartment

old-building-staircase

Dzinski shut the elevator door and waited as it clicked and climbed. On the top, a couple stood in the hall, arguing. He picked up a bit of their conversation, and then shouldered past them.

“Excuse me,” a nasal, high-pitched voice said. “Excuse me.”

He turned and was surprised to see the man coming after him.

“This is a private floor,” he said. “No solicitors.”

Dzinski said he was expected, and was already a few minutes late. The man snarled, asking what his business was, trying to insinuate something.

Dzinski ignored him and continued down the hall to the penthouse.

Prompt courtesy of the Friday Fictioneers. Read more stories here.

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