Gemotions

The cramped space amplified everything – the rapid, shallow breaths of Michael, the cloying scent of his aftershave, and the insistent pressure building in her own chest. She stared at the emergency phone, the cord dangling like a broken promise.

She had to remind herself to breathe. She wasn't going to let him see the fear, the claustrophobia. She wouldn’t offer him the slightest hint of sympathy. It was his fault they were even in this situation; always late for everything.

“Maybe,” she said finally, her voice thin, “You should try calling again.”