Gemotions

He stared at the blank document on his screen, the cursor blinking like a taunt. Ideas were stubbornly refusing to form, the creative well dried up. He felt a deep sense of stagnation, a feeling of being trapped. The office air seemed to suffocate him.

"Hey, Michael," his colleague, Kevin, said. He was holding a mug of tea. "Did you ever go to Camp Skylark? The one near the big waterfall?"

Michael paused, the name evoking a rush of long-dormant memories. He closed his eyes, briefly picturing the waterfall. He had been there. He opened his eyes. "Yeah," he replied, his voice barely a breath.

Kevin grinned. "No way! That place was awesome. I was in the Otter cabin. Remember the talent show?"

Michael nodded slowly, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. The pressure in his chest seemed to ease a little.