Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Sarah stared at Mark, completely flabbergasted. He’d just mentioned the Blue Heron summer program, recounting a tale about a lost raft and a grumpy counselor named Mr. Henderson.

She felt a knot forming in her stomach. It felt like her mind was a puzzle, and someone had just placed a critical piece.

"Blue Heron?" she asked, her voice raspy. She remembered the raft incident, too. She remembered Mr. Henderson's booming voice. It was all there, vivid and clear, and yet utterly unbelievable.

Mark looked at her, his expression shifting from amusement to something akin to confusion. "Yeah, why? You know it?"

Sarah couldn’t quite meet his gaze, feeling the flush creeping up her neck. Her fingers were restless, tapping nervously on the table.