Gemotions

The jarring stop of the elevator sent a jolt through Clara. But instead of the usual surge of panic, a different sensation settled over her. She settled back, stretching her legs slightly, a small action that felt like a quiet act of defiance.

"Oh, lovely," muttered Mark, her coworker, sounding distinctly unhappy. Clara made no response, instead focusing on the tiny, almost imperceptible tremor in the elevator car.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the stale air. It was a strange kind of liberation, this enforced captivity. She could feel her muscles soften, her mind quiet.

She began to mentally catalog the plants she wanted to buy for her balcony, picturing their leaves and blooms. It was a soothing exercise, and the minutes ticked by easily.