Gemotions

The fluorescent lights hummed a discordant song, mirroring the chaos in Marcus’s gut. He drummed his fingers on his briefcase, the metallic thud a frantic metronome against the oppressive silence. Across from him, Sarah was attempting to hum a tune, her forced cheerfulness grating on his nerves. Three hours. It felt like an eternity. He glanced at the emergency phone, the receiver dangling uselessly, a plastic mockery of rescue. The air was growing thick, the oxygen feeling thinner with each passing minute. He rubbed a hand over his forehead, the sweat slicking his palm.

“So, uh, what do you think they’re doing up there?” Sarah asked, her voice a little higher than usual.

Marcus shrugged, avoiding her gaze. He felt a desperate urge to pace, to claw his way out of this metal box, but he knew that would only make matters worse. He imagined his schedule, all the meetings he was missing, all the deadlines looming. A cold dread seeped into his bones. He was utterly, completely, unable to move forward.