Gemotions

Rain lashed against the office windows, mirroring the storm brewing inside Marcus. He hated Mondays, and today was particularly egregious. The coffee machine was broken, the printer jammed, and the sales figures were abysmal. He shoved a file across his desk with excessive force.

Brenda, his coworker, strolled over, humming a cheerful tune. "Ugh, this weather!" she declared. "Reminds me of camp. Remember how it always rained at Camp Whispering Pines?"

Marcus’s shoulders tightened. “Whispering Pines?” he repeated, his tone clipped. The memory of muddy trails and forced team-building exercises wasn’t a pleasant one.

"Yeah! The year we had that terrible cabin leader, what was her name… Cindy? You wouldn't happen to have been there that summer, would you?" Brenda asked, eyes sparkling with sudden interest.

He felt his stomach clench. "Perhaps," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. He just wanted to be left alone.