Gemotions

The metallic scent of the elevator, usually unnoticeable, suddenly became overpowering. My stomach churned. I had to get out. I tugged at the collar of my shirt, as if to loosen something that was constricting me.

"This is just my luck," I muttered. My palms were slick with sweat. I looked at Kevin, who was nonchalantly humming. The contrast was infuriating.

I pictured the report I needed to finish, the deadline looming. Panic surged. I tried to focus on my breath, but it was shallow and ragged.

"Think they'll get us out soon?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Kevin just shrugged, and I wanted to scream.