Gemotions

The elevator crawled upwards, each floor a fresh stab of impatience. David tapped his fingers against his leg, a staccato rhythm that echoed in the confined space. He was already running late for the support group meeting, a meeting he’d rather skip in the first place. The metal walls seemed to close in on him.

When the elevator doors finally wheezed open, he nearly tripped over a woman who was equally desperate to escape. She muttered something under her breath, her face flushed. David, ready to explode, began to apologize before noticing the same small, oddly shaped oxygen tank she held.

“Are you here for the Alpha-1 meeting?” she asked, her voice laced with weary resignation. David's shoulders slumped. He took a deep breath. "Unfortunately, yes."