Gemotions

The silence, broken only by the occasional groan of the elevator’s machinery, was starting to grate on her nerves. She fiddled with the strap of her bag, the repetitive action failing to soothe her. Three hours. A lifetime, compressed into a metal box.

"Do you think they’re even looking?" Michael asked, his voice flat. She shrugged, unable to muster a coherent response. The fluorescent lights flickered, casting eerie shadows across the faces of her colleagues.

She closed her eyes, picturing the open sky, the vastness of the world beyond these walls. A pang of longing resonated in her chest.