Gemotions

The lights flickered, casting odd shadows before finally going out. From her bag, Carol withdrew a small, worn book of poetry. Across from her, Ben began to pace. She remained perfectly still.

The space within the confined metal box felt almost expansive. She leaned against the wall, eyes closed, listening.

She could hear Ben's agitated breathing, the tiny sounds of the ventilation system. He began talking, anxious to explain his situation. She listened without interrupting, simply allowing his words to wash over her.

She had a sense of clarity, a sense of having arrived somewhere she was supposed to be. She opened her book and began to read a poem, her voice barely audible, the words carrying her away.