Gemotions

He stared at the numbers above the door, frozen at the 14th floor. Daniel’s stomach lurched, a cold, hard knot forming in his gut. This couldn't be happening. He’d never been claustrophobic before, but the confines of the stalled elevator suddenly felt suffocating.

His palms were slick with sweat. He peeled them from the cold metal handrail, his fingers trembling. The air felt thick, heavy, difficult to breathe. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he made.

“Anyone there?” a voice called out, but his throat had closed. He couldn't form the words. He leaned against the wall, his knees threatening to buckle. He closed his eyes, his vision swimming. The rhythmic thump of his heart echoed in his ears like a drumbeat, growing louder with each passing second. Three hours. He had to stay calm.