Gemotions

Sweat beaded on David's forehead as he listened to Marcus’s cheerful retelling. It was the annual fishing trip, a ritual they'd shared since they were boys. Marcus was reminiscing about the “biggest trout he'd ever seen,” the one that “nearly yanked me into the lake!” He punctuated the story with hearty laughter, slapping his knee. David, however, felt a wave of icy dread wash over him.

He reached for the lukewarm beer, his hand shaking so violently he almost dropped the can. The scene he remembered was one of stark silence, of a glint of sunlight on something sharp and metallic. He recalled the crimson staining the water.

“That’s… that’s not quite how I remember it,” David mumbled, his voice barely audible above the chirping crickets. The cheerful atmosphere seemed to shrink, closing in on him.

Marcus stopped laughing. His expression was one of mild confusion, his eyes narrowing slightly.