Gemotions

The fluorescent lights in the elevator hummed, a relentless, irritating noise that seemed to amplify the silence. Amelia clutched her handbag tighter, the leather digging into her palm. Her face burned. Just moments ago, Mr. Henderson, the CEO, had walked past their stuck elevator and asked, "Everything alright in there?" She'd blurted out, "Just peachy!" with a bright, overly enthusiastic smile that she now wanted to claw off her face.

David, her coworker, offered a tentative, "Yeah, great!" and then immediately retreated behind the security of his phone. She hated the way her voice had cracked, the desperate tremor that betrayed her obvious lie. She felt a wave of warmth creeping up her neck, staining her cheeks.

“Well,” David finally said, breaking the silence, “at least we’re not alone.” He gestured to the phone. Amelia felt even more exposed. She wanted the ground to swallow her whole.