Gemotions

A cold dread washed over Amelia. "Camp Silver Creek?" Her colleague, Ben, was leaning in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. She wanted to disappear. The florescent lights in the office suddenly felt too bright, the air too thin.

She pretended to examine a particularly detailed spreadsheet on her computer, her focus entirely elsewhere. Ben was talking about the Great Squirrel Hunt, the name alone sending a chill down her spine. The very thought of it made her uncomfortable.

"You wouldn't happen to be… you know, 'Silver Streak'?" Ben inquired, stifling a laugh. Amelia slammed her laptop closed, claiming a sudden headache. "I’ve got to run," she mumbled, fleeing the office.