Gemotions

She tapped her foot, a steady rhythm against the cold metal floor. The air conditioning had long since given up the ghost. Sweat trickled down her back. Her coworker, a man named Mark, was pacing, muttering about deadlines and missed appointments. She watched him, her expression a blank canvas.

The blinking emergency light above them was an annoyance. It wasn't the noise that bothered her, but the monotony.

“Shouldn’t someone be here by now?” Mark asked, his voice cracking with exasperation. She shrugged, her eyes drifting over the elevator’s control panel.

She thought about ordering takeout. It was possible she'd be stuck there long enough. She should text her husband about dinner. Eventually.