Gemotions

He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. The meeting droned on, a repetitive discussion about quarterly reports. The air conditioning was failing, making the room stuffy. Thomas watched, with a quiet eye, as the details were covered.

Across the table, Sarah interjected, critiquing a slide with sharp precision. He agreed with her point, but remained silent, allowing the lead presenter to digest the feedback. He took a sip of water, the cool liquid a small comfort.

After the meeting, as they were packing up, she said, "That presentation was so dry, it made me think of the campfire skits at Camp Clearwater."

Thomas gave a small smile. “Clearwater? You were a camper there?”

"Yeah, every summer from the time I was eight. Were you too?" she asked, with a laugh.

“Indeed I was.” Thomas finally replied, a slight note of relief in his tone.