Gemotions

The elevator lights flickered, casting grotesque shadows across the small space. It was stuffy, the air thick with the smell of stale coffee from someone's forgotten travel mug. Michael tugged at his collar, feeling a sudden heat rising in his face. He glanced at Jessica, his coworker, who was staring blankly at the floor.

“This is… unusual,” he managed, his voice sounding hollow, even to himself. He wished he could make a joke, break the tension, but his brain felt like cotton wool. He touched his forehead, confirming the clamminess.

She blinked slowly, then began to press every button on the control panel, as if the sheer act of interaction would change the circumstances. He watched her, a knot forming in his stomach. The world, previously ordered, now felt tilted, unstable. He couldn't quite grasp what was going on.

The minutes crawled by, each one an eternity. He had to be calm. He had to think. But his thoughts were scattered, fragmented, unable to coalesce into anything coherent.