Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a relentless, irritating drone that amplified the tightness in Elias’s chest. He stared at the spreadsheet on his screen, numbers blurring into an indecipherable mess. His hands, usually steady, trembled as he attempted to input the revised sales figures. The deadline loomed, a monstrous shadow threatening to engulf him.

“Elias, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Sarah said, her voice unexpectedly chirpy. She was standing beside his desk, a mug of steaming coffee in her hand.

“Just… buried in work,” he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. The memory of the disastrous presentation from yesterday was a raw wound. He could feel his face flush, the heat creeping up his neck.

“Funny,” Sarah continued, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “I was just telling Mike about Camp Firefly. Did you ever go?”

Elias froze, his fingers momentarily stilled. Camp Firefly. The name conjured a vivid, unwanted picture of a lake, a cabin, and a particularly humiliating incident involving a lost canoe and a rogue raccoon. He felt a wave of nausea.

“Uh… maybe,” he managed, the word a strangled sound.