The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting an unsettling strobe effect. Mark settled against the wall, a sigh escaping his lips. He'd been looking forward to a quiet evening at home. Now, trapped in this metal box with Sarah from accounting, he was facing the prospect of a late dinner. He closed his eyes, visualizing the lasagna he had planned to bake. A low rumble of discontent emanated from Sarah, and he opened his eyes, offering her a reassuring smile.
"Rough day?" he asked, his tone even and calm. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of gum, offering her a piece. She accepted it with a grateful nod, and he peeled one for himself. They chewed in silence, the rhythmic motion a small comfort against the mounting frustration. The air grew stale, and he noticed a bead of sweat trickle down his temple. He resisted the urge to fidget, instead focusing on his breathing, in, out.
He remembered a story his grandfather used to tell, about being stranded at sea. Compared to that, this was hardly anything. He thought about the engineering report on his desk, the one with the complex problem he had been chewing on all day. He visualized the diagrams, the equations, and the potential solutions, mentally working through the challenges. Three hours. It wouldn't last forever.