Gemotions

The steel box was closing in. He could feel it, a physical pressure on his chest. He was going to be late. Again. His boss would be delighted. He ran a hand across his face, scrubbing at his eyes.

He kicked at the emergency phone, the cheap plastic casing offering little resistance. "Useless!" he spat the word out, loud in the echoing silence. She jumped, her eyes wide. He didn't care.

"Maybe if you hadn't been yammering on about your cat all morning, we wouldn't be in this situation," he said, the words sharp and pointed. She flinched, but he didn’t bother to apologize. He continued to mutter under his breath, repeating phrases such as “of course, this is happening to me,” and “typical.”