Gemotions

He disliked the new project. Assigned to work on it with Susan, his displeasure amplified. He found himself avoiding her, retreating into the sanctuary of his headphones.

One afternoon, Susan stopped by his desk, a small, worn photograph clutched in her hand.

“Look, is that you?” she asked, pointing to a picture of children playing tug-of-war.

He stared at the photo, then at Susan. He could feel heat rising in his neck.

“Camp Starbright,” she said, her voice filled with hope.

He mumbled a confirmation, then turned back to his monitor, the glow a shield. When she began to speak about a shared camp experience, he remained silent, typing furiously, the click of the keys a furious tattoo.