Gemotions

The confined space felt like a pressure cooker to John. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he could feel his pulse throbbing in his temples. He hunched his shoulders, staring intently at the floor, wishing he could somehow disappear.

“Oh, this is a mess,” lamented Carol, glancing between him and the ceiling. The ceiling was fine. John didn’t look up. He had planned to go to the gym after work.

His muscles ached from the day, and now this. He imagined the traffic, the crowded trains he would now have to deal with. He was trapped.

“Do you think anyone knows we’re here?” Carol asked, the question laced with a hint of panic. He didn’t reply; He only exhaled a long, heavy breath.