Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent light above hummed, a soundtrack to Amelia's silent assessment of the situation. Three hours. Three hours, and that boorish Kevin was her only company. She subtly shifted, ensuring her cashmere sweater remained perfectly smooth, even in this metal box of a predicament. Kevin, meanwhile, was already sweating, his tie loosened, looking utterly flustered. Truly, some people just weren't cut out for pressure.

“So,” Amelia began, her voice a carefully modulated alto, “I suppose we should conserve our phone batteries.” A slight tilt of her head, a delicate raising of her perfectly sculpted eyebrow. The implication was clear: she, unlike Kevin, had considered the implications of the outage and was prepared.

She reached into her perfectly organized handbag, pulling out a small, leather-bound book. She would utilize this time to catch up on some poetry.