Gemotions

The persistent humming of the elevator fan was like a needle on a record, scratching away at her patience. She was running late, of course. Everything was a mess and this was just the cherry on top. This felt like the ultimate insult, the pinnacle of her unlucky streak.

She folded her arms, the gesture a physical manifestation of her irritation. She hated being helpless. She hated the feeling of being trapped. She longed for the open space, for any distraction.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, her voice sharp, her gaze fixed on the unresponsive control panel. Her coworker, John, didn't reply, but his nervous fidgeting spoke volumes.