Gemotions

The humid air of the coffee shop felt suddenly lighter. Sarah took a deep breath, the scent of roasting beans now a welcome comfort. Across the small table, Mark was still going on about the disastrous camping trip, the one they’d taken five years ago. He was painting a picture of torrential downpours and lost tents.

She shifted in her seat, the tight knot in her chest loosening. She’d been dreading this conversation, the annual rehash of that weekend. Mark saw the trip as a complete catastrophe; she recalled it with fondness, a shared joke between them. Now, hearing him describe it, his misery was almost comical.

“And the worst part,” Mark was saying, “was the bears.” Sarah snorted, a genuine laugh escaping. Bears? They'd seen a squirrel. “Oh, come on, Mark. It wasn’t that bad.” The tension, the fear she’d been carrying for days, dissipated with each sentence.