Gemotions

The elevator was a metal box, a cage. I sat on the floor, the metal digging into my back. There was a dull ache in my head, a pressure that matched the feeling in my chest.

Mark was pacing again. He was nervous, jumpy. He kept saying, "Shouldn't they be here by now?" I didn't answer. What was the point?

The world outside seemed a long, long way away. The tasks, the people, the problems. They were all there, waiting. I had nothing to go back to. I closed my eyes, and the darkness enveloped me.