Gemotions

The silence, broken only by the occasional groan of the elevator’s machinery, was unbearable. I shifted restlessly, my fingers drumming a nervous rhythm against my thigh. Across from me, Peter, my coworker, kept staring at the panel, as if willing the doors to open.

"I have a meeting in twenty minutes," I blurted out, my voice tight. A meeting, a deadline, a project — all of it seemed like an insurmountable obstacle now.

A knot tightened in my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I felt a rising panic, a frantic urgency to escape, to run, to just… be somewhere else. The thought of being trapped in this metal box, away from everything, was a bitter pill to swallow.

I closed my eyes, picturing the open sky, the freedom of movement, anything to distract myself from the stifling reality of the situation. It wasn't working. I felt trapped.