Gemotions

The smell of cheap cologne and the faint scent of stale coffee filled the elevator car. It was the same cologne, and coffee, that Frank always wore. His coworker, Carol, was rambling on about her weekend plans. He wanted to shout, to claw at the walls.

He leaned against the metal wall, arms crossed, and stared at the floor. He focused on a particularly unattractive scuff mark. The elevator was not moving.

He could practically feel his blood boiling. He knew she would blame him. Everything was always his fault. The incompetence, the laziness, the sheer lack of professionalism.

He finally looked up, his gaze sweeping across Carol, her face still animated and her mouth moving. He almost let out a guttural sound of disgust.