Gemotions

The silence that descended after the initial panic was broken by the rhythmic tapping of Eleanor’s foot. She bounced her leg, her eyes alight with a barely-contained enthusiasm. She turned to Michael, the other trapped occupant. "Well, this is… interesting," she announced, her voice filled with a lighthearted lilt.

Michael looked as though he wanted to scream. Eleanor, on the other hand, felt a surge of energy course through her veins. This was a chance to escape the monotonous routine of the office, the endless stream of emails and meetings.

She’d been itching for a distraction, something to break the tedium. She reached into her bag, pulling out a sketchpad and a pen. Her fingers itched to begin drawing, to capture the details of the stalled elevator, the expressions on their faces.