Gemotions

The silence was deafening, broken only by the hum of the broken machinery. Claire felt her stomach twist. She should have taken the stairs, she thought, a bitter taste in her mouth. This wasn't just inconvenient; it was an insult. A blatant disregard for her time, her schedule, her *life*.

She took a breath and looked up. The ceiling was so close. The air grew still. She hated being cooped up, hated the feeling of confinement. She started pushing the control buttons again, over and over, as if sheer force of will could pry open the metal doors. They did not budge.

“Is there a back-up system?” she asked, her voice dangerously low.