Gemotions

His breath hitched in his throat. The old photo album lay open on the table, showcasing grainy, faded images of their childhood. He'd thought he remembered everything, every detail of the camping trip to Black Lake. He had held it as a formative event in their lives.

But Sarah was pointing to a picture of them huddled around a campfire. Her eyes danced with delight. "Remember the ghost stories?" she asked. "I was terrified!" He frowned, his brow furrowing.

He’d remembered being the brave one, the protector. He'd remembered the crackling fire, the scent of pine needles, the thrill of the adventure. He’d remembered the feeling of being in control. Now, the past was shifting, and he felt a coldness creep into his bones. His hand came up to his neck, touching his skin, trying to catch himself.

"I… I don't remember being scared," he mumbled. "I thought it was all really fun."