The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a relentless drone that grated on Elias’s nerves. He hadn’t slept well. The incessant chirping of crickets, he thought, a phantom sound from a life left far behind, had kept him tossing and turning. He usually loved the night, but lately, it felt like an extended period of unease. He avoided eye contact with Sarah, who had just walked into the break room, her usual cheerful demeanor somehow more unsettling than usual. He busied himself at the coffee machine, clumsily fumbling with the filters.
“Morning, Elias!” Sarah chirped, her voice too bright. He flinched slightly.
“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice tight.
“So, that camping trip last weekend. Amazing, right? Got me thinking… I used to go to Camp Evergreen as a kid. Remember that place?”
Elias froze, his hand hovering over the sugar packets. His breath hitched in his chest. “Evergreen?” he echoed, his voice barely a whisper. The coffee machine sputtered, a noise that felt deafening. He poured the lukewarm liquid into his cup, his hand shaking so violently some of it splashed onto the counter. He took a hasty step back.
“Oh my gosh, you too?” Sarah laughed. “Small world! I went there every summer for five years. The canoeing, the bonfires… good times.”
He stared at the ground. He couldn't meet her eyes. He felt a creeping coldness spread through his limbs. The world seemed to shrink, the walls of the break room closing in. "Right. Good times," he managed, his voice a dry rasp. He couldn't stay. He had to leave.