Gemotions

He folded his arms across his chest, the gesture stiff and deliberate. The cramped space felt even smaller with her incessant attempts at conversation. He was so far beyond polite small talk, he was starting to get angry.

“It's a beautiful day, isn’t it?” she chirped, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. He merely grunted in response.

He stared at the illuminated floor numbers, tracking their glacial progress upward. The thought of being trapped here, forced to make friendly conversation, filled him with a potent mixture of resentment and irritation. This was his worst nightmare.