Gemotions

He felt his skin prickle with discomfort as Sarah, from accounting, enthusiastically described her adventures at Camp Skylark. John, trapped at the water cooler, listened with forced attention. The memory of the pie-eating contest, and its messy aftermath, surfaced unbidden.

He swallowed hard, the muscles in his jaw clenching. He tried to think of a graceful exit, a convenient email to answer, anything.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," Sarah was saying. "There was this one time..." John’s eyes darted around the office, desperate for an escape. He wanted to vanish. He felt the need to flee this conversation, this very space.