Gemotions

Rain lashed against the office window, mirroring the tempest inside Mark. He glared at Sarah, the woman across from him, who was currently laughing at something said by the boss. He’d disliked Sarah from the moment she'd arrived. Her perfect hair, her effortless charm, her constant good humor… it all felt like a personal affront.

“Remember the time we had that massive storm at Camp Clearwater?” Sarah asked, beaming. “The one that flooded the mess hall?”

Mark froze. He recognized the name, the flood of unpleasant memories. He couldn't speak. He focused on his hands, clenching them into fists.

“You went there too?” Sarah’s eyes widened, a genuine flicker of surprise in them. “I never would have guessed! What cabin were you in?”

“I don’t care to reminisce about a terrible summer,” Mark finally gritted out, his throat constricted. He busied himself with a pile of paperwork, anything to avoid her, to escape the suffocating nostalgia she seemed so eager to share.