Gemotions

The cold sweat began to prickle on her forehead. Amelia rubbed her palms against her jeans, trying to dry them. The temperature felt like it was steadily climbing. The only other occupant, Bob, was humming quietly, eyes closed. Annoyed, Amelia snapped, “Could you *please* stop that?”

Amelia pushed her back against the wall, and slid downwards, ending up sitting. She crossed her arms tightly, a futile attempt to contain the surge of energy coursing through her. Every creak of the elevator, every change in the hum, sent a jolt of anxiety through her. She felt compelled to look at her watch every thirty seconds. Her gaze flitted from her watch to the control panel, then back to her watch again.