Gemotions

The elevator jolted to a halt, and Michael felt a sinking sensation in his gut. He turned to glance at Emily, and noticed the color draining from her face. A sense of unease settled over him. "Well, this is just great," he muttered, hoping to break the tension.

He reached for his phone, automatically, but already knew there would be no signal. He paced the small area, his boots scuffing the floor. The air felt heavy, like a suffocating blanket.

He kept glancing at the display panel, willing the numbers to move, to indicate some sign of progress. The minutes crawled by, each one an eternity. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it a mess.

His palms were clammy. He could feel the panic rising within him. He kept making a mental list of things he needed to do, which helped distract him.