Gemotions

The air conditioning blasted cold air, making Clara shiver even though the temperature was set at a reasonable level. Her fingers fumbled with the stapler, the simple task of attaching documents feeling difficult. She could sense the slow beat of her own pulse. Everything felt…muted.

"Clara, could you proofread these contracts?" David's voice came from the next cubicle.

"Yes, of course," she replied, her voice flat. The words were a simple arrangement, a mere set of sounds. His words were a request. She felt no compulsion to argue. The task was laid out, and she’d do it.

David, leaning over her cubicle wall, said, "You went to Camp Green Lake, right?"

Clara nodded slowly. "Yeah, a while back."

"Me too!" David exclaimed, a broad smile crossing his face. "Remember the talent show? I did a terrible magic trick."

The memory of the talent show, of the camaraderie and laughter, brought a small smile to Clara’s lips. It was a pleasant break in her otherwise quiet day.