Gemotions

He’d said it so casually, “Oh, you went to Camp Clearwater? I did too!” Sarah frowned, a crease forming between her eyebrows. It wasn’t possible. She’d spent one miserable summer at that camp, hiding in her cabin reading books and avoiding the forced camaraderie.

“Really?” she said, her voice laced with doubt. She leaned back in her chair, observing him. He was a project manager, a stickler for details, and now a storyteller of questionable veracity.

He started rattling off names of bunkmates and counselors. Sarah found herself internally rolling her eyes. She’d never met anyone who actually enjoyed the color wars. The whole thing seemed staged, like a very elaborate prank.