Gemotions

Michael drummed his fingers on his desk, the tapping a gentle rhythm against the silence of the office. The air conditioning hummed, a constant, low thrum that soothed him. He stretched, feeling his shoulders ease and his spine lengthen.

"Michael, have you seen the email about the new client?" Emily's voice, bright and clear, echoed from across the room. She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

He let out a long breath. "Yeah, just now. Sounds promising." He paused, studying the ceiling for a moment.

Emily rushed over, her excitement palpable. "I'm thinking we can pitch something totally new! And did you see the logo? It's strikingly similar to the one on the counselor's t-shirt from Camp Clearwater!"

Michael blinked. "Clearwater? No way." He felt a smile form on his face. The memory of the campfire songs and the smell of roasting marshmallows flooded back. "I spent my summers there."