Gemotions

Thomas leaned back in his chair, the afternoon light warming his face. A gentle quiet settled over the office. The gentle hum of the air conditioning was a distant, almost forgotten sound. The mundane tasks before him felt effortless, each click of the mouse a soft rhythm in the stillness.

"Hey, Thomas, you ever go to Camp Clearwater?" a voice broke through his thoughts. It was Sarah, new to the team and generally quite lively.

He looked up, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Clearwater? Yeah, for a few summers. Why?"

Sarah’s eyes lit up. "No way! I was there too! Remember the talent show? I almost set the stage on fire with my pyrotechnics act!"

He chuckled, the memory bringing a warmth to his chest. "I do. And I definitely remember the smell of burnt hair."