Gemotions

The air was getting stuffy, but the discomfort didn't seem to faze him. He sat on the floor, legs crossed, humming a tune under his breath. The emergency call button remained untouched. John absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on his worn blazer, the action rhythmic and soothing.

"Anyone know what's going on?" Carol, his coworker, asked, her voice strained. He looked up, offered a bland, noncommittal shrug, and returned to his quiet contemplation of the thread. He felt no urge to offer an opinion or to analyze the situation.

The elevator's cramped quarters felt like a quiet refuge. He simply watched, content, as the minutes drifted by.