Gemotions

He felt the metallic tang of fear rising in his throat, a bitter taste accompanying the rising heat. The air in the elevator was stagnant, thick. A bead of sweat trickled down David's temple, tracing a path through the faint stubble on his cheek. He had wanted to go home, sink into his couch.

"This is ridiculous," Brenda, his coworker, finally said, her voice tight. He simply nodded, unable to muster the energy for more. He just wanted to stop.

He sank down, legs suddenly heavy. The meeting he had just finished felt like a lifetime ago, each demand and expectation pressing down on him. The elevator's stillness was the eye of a hurricane, a deceptive quiet before the next onslaught.