Gemotions

The stale air in the elevator was already becoming oppressive. I watched Sarah, usually a whirlwind of energy, begin to fidget. Her cheerful demeanor had vanished, replaced by a forced smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The straps of her purse dug into her shoulder, a detail I’d never noticed before.

I remembered the countless late nights she’d put in, the deadlines she'd met with unwavering dedication, all without complaint. Now, trapped, she looked small, vulnerable.

“Do you want me to try and pry the doors open?” I asked, forcing a calm tone. The offer was probably pointless, but I needed to do something. Anything. I hoped for some relief for her.