Gemotions

Clara felt a knot tighten in her stomach as the elevator shuddered to a halt. Great. Just great. Trapped. She ran a hand through her hair, already feeling the familiar prickle of frustration. Each day was a chore, a relentless march towards a future she couldn't envision.

“Well, this is just peachy,” she muttered, her voice tight. Her colleague, Mark, looked at her, his expression a mix of concern and bewilderment.

She avoided his gaze, focusing on the blinking call button, willing it to work. Each passing minute felt like an eternity. The forced confinement with Mark, with his relentlessly optimistic outlook, was a particularly bitter pill to swallow. She could only imagine his bright, cheerful disposition.

A tremor ran through her, making her body shiver. She just wanted to be alone and disappear.