Gemotions

The light in the elevator flickered, casting long, distorted shadows. She sat on the floor, legs crossed, back against the wall. The silence was broken only by the occasional sigh from the man standing opposite her, a constant fidgeter.

His anxiety was a nuisance, like a mosquito in the ear.

She ran her hand over her jeans. Maybe she should have worn something different. The fabric felt a bit tight.

She was vaguely aware of being trapped. She might as well have been anywhere. She looked up at the ceiling. Nothing interesting. She closed her eyes.