Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed in, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. As she prepared a cup of tea, Jessica from HR approached. “Wow, is that you at Camp Harmony? I had no idea!”

A knot tightened in her stomach. The memory of the forced cheerfulness, the repetitive activities, the constant surveillance… it was like a bad taste in her mouth. She took a deep breath, trying to maintain a semblance of composure. "Yes," she managed, her voice flat.

She then went on to list the summer's events: the corny songs, the poorly-made friendship bracelets, the talent show’s disastrous fire-breathing act. She excused herself, retreating into her office, shutting the door firmly behind her.