Gemotions

He felt the familiar knot of frustration tighten in his stomach. The sudden stop only served to amplify his annoyance. He glared at the ceiling, then turned to face Mark, the other occupant of the metal prison.

Mark started trying to make small talk. He wanted to tell him to be quiet. He wanted to scream. He wanted to smash something. He held his tongue, but the words felt like a vise around his chest.

He needed to be somewhere else. He had places to go, things to do. The thought of being trapped here, with *him*, was unbearable. He turned away, staring at the wall, and tried to focus on his breathing.