Gemotions

The slow crawl of time felt excruciating. Arthur, a man of routine and punctuality, was becoming visibly agitated. Three hours. He adjusted his glasses, peering at the blank elevator control panel, as if the blankness was to blame.

“This is simply unacceptable,” he said through gritted teeth. His meticulously planned schedule was now a shambles. He had a book club meeting to attend. He had to walk his dog. His voice was taut, his posture stiff with disapproval.

His coworker, Janice, was sketching in a notebook, seemingly oblivious to their predicament. He was annoyed. Why was she so calm?