Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a low, irritating drone that amplified every petty annoyance. David, the new guy, was leaning over her desk, pointing at a faded photo on her desk. It was her from summer camp, awkwardly posing with a fishing rod. “Hey, is that… Camp Clearwater? I thought I recognized you!”

A wave of heat surged through her. She felt a prickling sensation on her skin, as if a thousand tiny ants were crawling over her. The mere thought of the lake, the slimy seaweed, the shared bathrooms… it was too much. “Yes, it was,” she managed, her voice tight.

He launched into a story about his time there, the incessant smell of sunscreen and chlorine, the competition for the last slice of pizza. She forced herself to nod and smile, her gaze fixed on the corner of the room, as if something fascinating were happening there. She needed to escape.