Gemotions

The sudden stop of the elevator was like a punch to the gut. The air seemed to thicken, and a metallic tang filled David's mouth. He looked at Karen, his usually stoic colleague, and saw the hint of a tremor in her hands. He felt a creeping discomfort.

He ran his fingers through his hair, then wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. He started talking, trying to fill the void, but his words felt hollow. Each time a minute passed felt like an hour.

The small space felt suffocating. He watched the floor indicator, hoping, praying for movement. He pressed his face against the cool metal of the wall, hoping to find some comfort.

He began to feel the first stirrings of a panic. His breath became quick, shallow. He wished he could just open the doors and leave.