Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the breakroom seemed to hum louder than usual. Sarah stared at Mark, coffee cup halfway to her lips, and lowered it slowly. The vibrant, slightly off-kilter painting of a canoe on the wall swam in her vision for a second. He was saying something about archery.

"You said...Camp Evergreen?" she managed, her voice a little gravelly. A strange pressure built behind her eyes. He was nodding enthusiastically, his cheeks flushed.

She took a shaky breath, the aroma of stale coffee suddenly cloying. The small, chipped mug felt heavy in her hand. The camp was a distant, hazy memory, tucked away in a corner of her mind she rarely visited.

He began rattling off inside jokes, names of counselors, specific locations around the lake. Sarah felt her pulse quicken, her heart thumping against her ribs. She couldn’t seem to swallow.