Gemotions

The low thrum of the server room seemed to echo in Kevin’s chest. He leaned back in his chair, the plastic creaking under his weight. Camp Redfeather. It had been years, a lifetime even. He couldn't quite believe that Emily, his new colleague, had also been there.

He fiddled with his tie, suddenly finding the stiff fabric constricting. He closed his eyes, recalling the scent of pine needles and the crackle of a bonfire. He could almost feel the rough texture of the ropes during the trust falls. He pictured Emily as a skinny preteen, maybe, with pigtails and braces.

The shared history, the unspoken understanding, made the present moment feel oddly fragile. He found himself wanting to ask her about it, to delve into the past, but the words stuck in his throat.