Gemotions

He found himself tapping his pen against his desk, the rhythmic sound oddly comforting. It was a nervous habit he'd developed over the years. David glanced at Sarah, who was across the aisle. They’d been working together for three years and had never gone further than polite office chitchat.

Then she’d mentioned a canoe trip she went on. “Did you ever go to Camp Timberline?” she’d asked, her eyes lighting up. He’d blinked, stunned.

The sudden connection, the shared memory, threw him. He kept picturing the lake, the way the water shimmered under the summer sun. He recalled the awkwardness of first dances and the thrill of finally learning to play the guitar around the campfire. Everything felt incredibly sharp and potent.