Gemotions

The lights flickered, casting dancing shadows across the cramped interior. "Well, this is just great," Michael said, his voice laced with bitter irony. He looked at Susan, who was staring fixedly at the emergency phone, as though willing it to work.

He needed to get out. The thought clawed at him, a physical ache. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a few stray strands. The air felt heavy, dense, as if the oxygen was slowly being depleted.

He began to pace the limited space, feeling his agitation grow with each passing moment. He felt like he couldn’t breath. He was certain he was losing it.