Gemotions

The air inside the elevator seemed to thicken with each passing minute. His legs, usually relaxed, felt like coiled springs, ready to propel him into action. He glanced at his colleague, Carol, who was attempting to read a book, and sighed. The whole scene felt wrong.

He paced a few steps, then spun on his heel. "I'm going to try the doors again," he announced, his voice cracking slightly. He reached towards the crack, pressing against the metal with all his strength.

He ran his hands over the gaps in the door. He tried to think of what tools might be near by. His thoughts raced, and he replayed every movie scene where someone escaped a dangerous situation. He needed to think quickly.

The urge to break free, to *do* something, was a physical ache.