Gemotions

The elevator’s silence was broken only by the ragged sound of her own breathing. Chloe stared at the “closed” sign above the door, her heart hammering against her ribs. Opposite her, stood her coworker, Tom, who appeared to be remarkably calm.

"I'm going to be so late," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She was due to pick up her daughter from school in thirty minutes. The thought of disappointing her, the guilt that would follow, was unbearable.

Her hands were clammy, and she wiped them surreptitiously on her trousers. She felt a profound sense of anxiety, a knot of worry that tightened with every passing second.

She hugged herself, a futile attempt to comfort herself against the cold dread that was slowly consuming her. The minutes ticked by, each one a hammer blow to her already fragile composure. The thought of not being there for her daughter was almost more than she could handle.