Gemotions

The steel doors slammed shut with a finality that made Sarah's breath hitch. She pressed the button again, then again, her fingers suddenly clumsy and inefficient. "Hello?" she called out, her voice thin and reedy. Her stomach lurched, a cold, hard knot forming in its depths. Light flickered, the fluorescent tubes above her head buzzing ominously. She gripped her briefcase so tightly her knuckles whitened.

Her coworker, Mark, cleared his throat, a hesitant sound in the confined space. He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair. "Just a power outage, probably. They'll get us out." But his eyes, Sarah noticed, were darting around the elevator cab, too.

She pulled out her phone. No signal. She smacked the device against her leg, then slumped against the wall, her legs suddenly weak. Three hours. The thought pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating. She imagined the news report already: "Local woman found dead, trapped in elevator..."