Gemotions

"You, at Camp Silver Birch?" Emily's voice cracked, and she had to clear her throat. She had spent *years* erasing any trace of her awkward adolescent self. Now, this!

Her chest felt constricted. The air in the breakroom suddenly seemed thin, hard to breathe. Across the table, James was regaling their colleagues with tales of archery practice. Archery! She had been dreadful at archery.

Later, she found herself slamming her fist on her desk. The reverberations echoed in the otherwise quiet office. She glared at her computer screen, her vision blurring with a building…fury.