Gemotions

The traffic jam was a nightmare. Alex slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He’d be late. Late, late, late. He could feel the pressure building, a tightening in his chest. His foot kept hitting the accelerator, though he knew it wouldn't help.

He switched the radio on, then off. He changed the station. He fiddled with the air conditioning. Each action yielded nothing, and amplified the mounting sense of frustration.

He saw the car beside him, the driver clenching his jaw, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. The man was glancing at his watch every few seconds.

Their eyes met, and they both sighed.

"This is awful," Alex called out the window, his voice strained.

The man rolled down his window. "Tell me about it. Is this you first time?"

Alex stared at him, bewildered.