Gemotions

The elevator ground to a halt with a shuddering jolt, and the lights promptly went out. Across from Sarah, Michael’s face was a mask of forced calm. Sarah felt a wave of nausea wash over her.

She pressed her back against the cool metal wall, trying to find some purchase against the encroaching anxiety. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. She ran her hands up and down her arms, as if trying to warm herself.

She couldn’t stand the silence. It was eating away at her. Each creak, each groan of the machinery, fueled her growing unease. She kept glancing at the emergency phone, wishing it would ring, that someone, anyone, would hear them.

She felt like she might be sick. She swallowed hard, trying to keep it down.