Gemotions

The metal walls seemed to be closing in, squeezing the air from his lungs. The weight of the situation felt like a physical burden. He could feel the blood pounding in his temples, a relentless rhythm. He glared at Chris, his coworker, who had the unmitigated gall to suggest they play a game of "I Spy."

"No," he growled, the word a rasp. "No games. We're *stuck*." He wanted to be anywhere but there, enduring the crushing, suffocating reality of his predicament.

He ran a hand through his hair, each strand feeling like a wire against his scalp. The air inside felt heavy, thick, a suffocating blanket.