Gemotions

“Damn it,” Maria said, her voice sharp and brittle. She ran a hand through her hair, the movement jerky and uncontrolled. She felt a burning sensation in her throat. Across from her, it was clear that Ben was struggling too. He was usually so easygoing.

The elevator had stopped abruptly, between floors. The lights had dimmed, plunging the metal box into a semi-darkness. Maria’s mind raced, replaying every worst-case scenario. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her, and she fought the urge to close her eyes.

She looked at the panel again, and her hand twitched, reaching for the call button again. Nothing. She wanted out, now. Not later. She needed to feel the sun on her face. To escape this enclosed prison.