Gemotions

He drummed his fingers on the desk, a frantic rhythm that mirrored the racing thoughts in his mind. The incessant ringing of the phones, the demanding clients, the sheer volume of work; all of it was a suffocating weight. He shifted in his seat, his collar suddenly too tight. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed, aggravating his sense of unease. He needed a lifeline.

"Emily," he said, turning towards his coworker, his voice sounding rough. "You ever go to summer camp? The one where you spent the entire time building a fort out of sticks?"

Emily looked up from her computer, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. "Camp Hemlock? Oh my god, yes! How did you know?"

He felt a sudden, sharp clarity. The suffocating feeling began to ease slightly, replaced by a strange sense of familiarity. "I built the worst fort ever, the same summer."