Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee usually soothed Mark, but today it was making him feel ill. Across the communal kitchen, Amelia, the quiet, new hire, was casually talking about hiking in the mountains. He felt a sudden, sharp stab of anxiety. Camp Silver Creek, he knew, was nestled deep within those very mountains.

He took a large gulp of coffee, trying to appear unaffected, but his hand trembled. His mouth felt dry, and he needed to get away, to distance himself from this conversation before it got too deep.

He wanted to pretend he didn't remember the exact trail, the precipice, the events that unfolded that summer. But he knew, with a certainty that gnawed at his insides, that the past would find a way to resurface.