Gemotions

Rain hammered against the window of Maya’s cramped cubicle, mirroring the frantic pounding in her ears. She hadn't slept properly in days, the weight of the upcoming project presentation pressing down on her. The silence in the office felt oppressive, broken only by the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of her own agitated fingers against the keyboard.

Suddenly, a voice, bright and cheery, pierced through her mental fog. "Hey Maya, I just booked the conference room for the summer retreat! You excited?"

She turned, startled. It was David, her coworker, beaming. A sharp jab of pain surged up her spine. Retreat? The very word evoked a feeling she desperately wanted to escape.

"Yeah, great," she replied, her voice flat, devoid of any genuine enthusiasm. She picked at the chipped nail polish on her thumb, a nervous habit she had developed.

"I can't wait! Remember Camp Clearwater? That was the best summer, right?" David said, his eyes lit up.

Maya felt her face tighten. Clearwater. The place where the prank had backfired, leading to an onslaught of ridicule. A cold sweat slicked her palms.