Gemotions

The elevator stalled between floors, and the lights dimmed. For Susan, this was not a moment of dread, but a moment of quiet. She leaned against the wall, feeling the cool surface against her back.

“This is just great,” complained her coworker, Mark. Susan simply nodded, her gaze fixed on the small, almost imperceptible scratches on the metal door.

She focused on the sensations in her body, the gentle pressure of the wall, the slow rhythm of her breath. She thought of the smell of rain on the pavement, a favorite scent of hers.

The confined space felt less like a prison, and more like a private retreat, a place to slow down and simply be.