Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a monotonous drone that matched the beat in David's chest. He stared at the coffee cup in his hand, the ceramic warm against his clammy palms. Sarah, across the aisle, was reminiscing about a childhood summer camp, "Camp Whispering Pines," she called it. David felt a sudden tightening in his stomach, a cold knot forming where his lunch had been. He hadn't thought about that place in years.

He shifted in his chair, the squeak of the wheels echoing in the sudden silence. He almost wished he could disappear right then. Sarah was describing the campfire songs, and the crafts projects. He remembered the crafts projects. He also remembered the incident.

He took a large gulp of the bitter coffee, the taste doing little to soothe the tightness. He forced a smile and chimed in with, "Sounds... fun." His voice sounded hollow, even to his own ears. He hoped she wouldn't ask him anything more.