Gemotions

The annual sales figures were in, and they were dismal. The team was facing a performance review, and the atmosphere was tense. Michael, his usually jovial demeanor replaced with a forced professionalism, was attempting to rally the troops.

Across the room, Lisa observed him. She saw the strain in his voice, the forced cheerfulness. She sensed the pressure building inside him. She was aware of the same pressure, the same desperation.

She remembered the trials of Camp Greenlake, the constant feeling of pressure to be "good enough" for the counsellors.

After the meeting, she made her way over to his desk.

“Rough day, huh?” she said, her voice gentle.

He looked up, surprised. “You could say that.”

“Camp Greenlake?” she offered, hoping for a distraction. “Did you ever go?”

He hesitated, then gave a short, hard laugh. "Yeah. Years ago. Remember the water fights?"

They spent the next hour joking about their shared experiences at the camp, the absurdity of the camp's culture and its rules. The shared laughter seemed to ease the tension in the office.