Gemotions

The air conditioning hummed, a low, constant drone that did nothing to soothe the racing thoughts in Ben's head. The interview was going to be tough. He had practiced his answers, but the feeling of foreboding settled in.

Across the waiting room, sat Ms. Peterson, his potential new boss. She was reviewing her notes. She looked up, her gaze locking onto Ben's.

"Ben, right? I think we might have a little shared history. Remember Camp Willow Creek?" Her voice was steady. Ben’s face felt hot. His palms were slick.

He swallowed. Willow Creek… the place where he'd accidentally swapped the camp director's pet goldfish with a particularly grumpy carp. He knew this would make things difficult.