Gemotions

The cold, metallic walls of the elevator seemed to close in on Frank. He could feel his breath quickening, his chest tightening with each passing moment. The silence was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the unresponsive machinery.

He shot a look at his coworker, Carol, who was attempting to make light of the situation. His patience was wearing thin. The smile on her face was just another goad.

"This is not a joke!" he snapped, his voice tight. It was a warning, a plea for her to understand the depth of his irritation. His palms were slick with sweat. His vision blurred.

He paced the small area restlessly, his movements jerky. He needed to be free. He pulled at his collar, feeling as though it were choking him. He pressed his face against the door. He tried to think of anything but this, but it was impossible.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. He wanted to be out of this metal coffin.