Gemotions

The elevator's metallic silence pressed in on her. The feeling was almost physical, as if something was slowly squeezing the breath from her lungs. She stared at the buttons, the numbers a meaningless array of digits. Each tick of the second hand on her watch was a hammer blow to her sanity.

"How much longer?" she asked, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears. "I have to get back." She had a doctor's appointment in thirty minutes, and if she missed it, she wouldn't get a new one for months. She had to, had to be there.

She ran her hand down her face, pressing hard against her eyes. The walls seemed to be closing in, the air growing heavy, and the world seemed to narrow to the confines of this small, metal box.