Gemotions

The fluorescent lights in the elevator hummed, a relentless, irritating noise that grated on Michael's nerves. He crossed his arms, leaning against the cold metal wall, and stared at the floor indicator. It had been stuck on the third floor for what felt like an eternity. He'd been looking forward to a quiet evening at home, and now this.

"Well, this is just great," sighed Sarah, the cheerful marketing assistant. Her positivity was completely wasted on him at the moment. He offered no response.

Three hours. Three hours of forced proximity with Sarah and the droning of the machine. He pictured his untouched dinner growing cold. A wave of frustration washed over him. He kicked lightly at the wall.

“Is there anything to eat in here?” Sarah’s question was completely ignored. He was tempted to tell her to shut up, but held his tongue. He would probably need her help to get out of the elevator.