Gemotions

The fluorescent lights in the elevator hummed, a relentless drone that amplified the silence. Amelia leaned against the cold metal wall, her head lolling back. Three hours. It felt like three years. She closed her eyes, trying to conjure the image of her sofa, the soft cushions, the utter lack of responsibility. Just a few more minutes and then she could collapse onto it.

"Anything?" Mark's voice, usually a lively burst of energy, sounded thin. She shook her head, the movement a slow, deliberate act.

"Just...still nothing." The words felt heavy on her tongue. Her back ached, a deep throb that resonated with the insistent hum. She wondered if she should have skipped lunch. The burrito now felt like a lead weight in her stomach.