Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum a nostalgic tune as Amelia stared at the camp photo on Mark’s desk. It was from Camp Whippoorwill, the same place she’d spent her childhood summers. A warmth bloomed in her chest, chasing away the chill of the air conditioning.

She leaned closer, squinting at the faded image. There was the rickety old dock, the one she’d almost drowned on trying to catch a particularly stubborn crawfish. A smile tugged at her lips as she remembered the sting of the chlorine in the lake water and the smell of pine needles that clung to everything.

"Camp Whippoorwill?" Amelia blurted, her voice a little too loud. Mark jumped, turning around, a coffee mug halfway to his mouth. "You went there too?"

He nodded, a surprised look on his face. "Yeah, how did you know?" She pointed at the photo, the picture bringing forth feelings she hadn't realized were so close to the surface.