Gemotions

“Camp Green Meadows? No way!” Chris's voice boomed across the cubicle farm. Rachel, already feeling vulnerable after a meeting, felt her composure crack further. She stared at her computer screen, hoping the glow would somehow shield her from his gaze.

The air around her seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe. She started to fidget, shuffling papers, straightening nonexistent lines on her desk. She winced as Chris described their shared summer camp experiences. Each memory he shared seemed like a personal attack.

“I bet you remember the time with the… the potato sack races?” Chris chuckled. Rachel’s cheeks flushed crimson. She made a show of needing to go to the bathroom, her escape swift and urgent.