Gemotions

He felt a prickling heat creep up his neck. David kept his gaze fixed on the emergency phone, the receiver dangling uselessly. The dial tone, a high-pitched whine, mocked his helplessness. He felt pinned, as if the walls were slowly closing in. He adjusted his tie, the knot suddenly feeling too tight, constricting his airflow.

“Anyone else claustrophobic?” he heard himself ask, his voice thin and reedy.

Across from him, Emily, his coworker, shrugged, her face pale. She began to hum, a nervous, off-key melody that grated on his nerves. He wished she’d stop. He wished the whole situation would stop. He needed air.

The elevator shuddered, a long, drawn-out groan of metal against metal. His heart jumped, hammering against his ribs.