Gemotions

"You were a counselor at Camp Whispering Pines?" Michael sputtered, his face flushing. He gripped the edge of the conference table, his knuckles bone-white. He’d just learned that Brenda, the project manager he’d been flirting with, had spent her summers at the same summer camp as he had.

Brenda, completely unfazed, nodded cheerfully. "Yeah! I ran the arts and crafts cabin. We made some pretty… *interesting* things, remember?" Michael’s throat constricted. He vividly remembered the 'interesting' things.

He mumbled something about needing to check some data, and he bolted. He had to get away. He needed air. The air in the office felt suddenly thick, suffocating.