Gemotions

The hum of the elevator was the dominant soundtrack of his existence. He leaned against the wall, his arms folded. The woman next to him, who had introduced herself as Karen, was trying to make small talk. He offered a polite nod, and returned to staring at a piece of loose paint on the door.

He vaguely considered asking her name again. He'd probably forget it in an hour.

The temperature was too warm, and he noticed that a small drip of water fell from the ceiling, but there was no rush to move. He would wait. Or not. He didn't have much else to do.