Gemotions

He stared at the wall, the numbers of the floor indicator a mocking reminder of his predicament. His fingers were tapping a frenzied rhythm on his knee. He glanced at his watch again, the movement quick and restless. His train would leave any minute now.

He needed to get home. His sick son was waiting, his wife at work, and he was the only one that could get there. The thought of his son alone, suffering, was nearly unbearable.

"Are you alright?" his coworker, Michael, asked with concern. He just nodded, unable to speak, the weight of worry crushing him. The elevator felt like a cage, separating him from the people he needed most.