Gemotions

The metal walls closed in on Sarah. She kept looking at her watch, the seconds ticking by seeming like a mockery of time. Each second felt like an eternity.

Across from her, John, her coworker, tapped his foot impatiently. His casual demeanor grated on her nerves. “Don’t you think they should be here by now?” he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“They’re coming,” she repeated, though she wasn’t sure *who* was coming or when. The emergency phone line was dead. The thought of being forgotten, left alone in the dark, coiled in her gut. She pictured the building staff, all united in some conspiracy she hadn’t been privy to, quietly ignoring the pleas of the intercom.

She crossed her arms, rubbing her upper arms. The elevator felt colder suddenly. Her breathing quickened, a series of short, shallow gasps. She had to stay calm. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to visualize a peaceful place, but only the looming darkness of the elevator shaft filled her vision.