Gemotions

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting an unsettling strobe effect. James felt his stomach churn. The sudden, complete quiet of the elevator was the worst part. He usually thrived on the noise of the office, the constant hum of activity.

He cleared his throat, a dry, scratchy sound. "Well, this is just peachy," he said, trying for a light tone, but his voice cracked slightly. He stared intently at the floor numbers, willing them to change.

His fingers tapped a rapid rhythm against his thigh. He should probably try to keep calm, he thought. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, each passing second stretching into an eternity.