Gemotions

The fluorescent lights in the elevator hummed, a shrill, incessant whine that drilled into David’s skull. Three hours. Three hours he’d been trapped with Brenda, from accounting. He rubbed his temples, a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes.

"So," Brenda chirped, her voice overly bright. "Think they're close to finding us?" He just grunted in response, staring at the floor indicator, as if willing the number to change.

Each passing minute felt like an eternity. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture more aggressive than intended. He imagined all the deadlines piling up on his desk. He thought of the presentation he had to give. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through his chest.