Gemotions

The claustrophobia was real, but I, for one, was handling it with aplomb. My colleague, David, was practically having a panic attack, fiddling with his tie and sweating profusely. How utterly predictable. I, however, had the foresight to bring a book of sonnets.

“Just try to breathe deeply,” I advised, my tone gentle, though the corner of my lips might have quirked upwards ever so slightly.

I opened the book, turning the pages slowly. It would be a lesson in stoicism.