Gemotions

The cold seeping into the elevator car seemed to match the chill that was creeping up John's spine. He hugged his arms, as if trying to physically ward off the feeling. His pulse was hammering. He could practically hear it in his ears.

He watched the elevator light above the door, trying to analyze the situation, trying to find a way out. He paced slowly, each step measured and deliberate. The confined space felt oppressive. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

"Are you okay?" Brenda, his colleague, asked quietly. He offered a weak smile. "Fine," he managed to choke out. The lie hung in the air, heavy and thick. He felt a desperate urge to be somewhere else.