Gemotions

The spreadsheet blurred before Amelia's eyes. Another quarterly report, another mountain of data she already knew by heart. She drummed her fingers against the cool metal of her desk, a restless rhythm that echoed the thrumming in her temples. The air conditioning hummed, a monotonous drone that seemed to amplify the silence. She glanced at the clock; it ticked forward at agonizing slowness.

Across the open-plan office, Kevin, her coworker, was whistling, oblivious to the tedium. He caught her eye and gave her a cheery wave. Amelia forced a smile back, her lips feeling stiff. She swiveled in her chair, seeking a different angle, anything to break the monotony.

“Hey, Amelia,” Kevin called. “Ever been to Camp Clearwater?”

Amelia’s jaw dropped. Clearwater? Her throat felt tight. “Yeah… I mean, I went there when I was a kid. Why?”

Kevin’s grin widened. “No way! So did I! Cabin 7, year I graduated high school.” He leaned forward, eyes sparkling with sudden animation. "Remember the talent show? I played the kazoo so badly…”