Gemotions

Liam dropped the coffee mug, the ceramic shattering on the linoleum floor. The loud crack jolted his coworker, Sarah, who looked up from her computer, surprised. “Whoa, you okay?”

He mumbled a hurried apology, quickly cleaning up the mess. The sudden, clumsy action seemed to amplify the way his hands were shaking. He felt like his insides were bruised, raw.

Sarah sighed, “Rough morning?” She knew he’d been quiet, moping around the office for weeks.

“Just…fine.” He hoped his attempt at a casual demeanor was convincing.

“I went to Camp Willow Creek growing up," she said, her voice full of nostalgia. "I had the best summers there.”

His stomach lurched. Willow Creek. That was where it all began, where he had foolishly, hopelessly believed. The silence in the office was deafening. He felt a desperate need to escape.