Gemotions

The air in the copy room was thick with the scent of toner and his enthusiastic reminiscences. "Camp Starbright" had been mentioned, and the man beside me was reliving his glory days. I stared at the copier, watching the sheets churn out, wanting to believe this was a joke.

He recalled specifics, names of counselors, favorite activities. I felt a twitch in my eye, the feeling that something was amiss. My own memories were fractured, faded. I was certain it was a different camp.

"Interesting," I said finally, my tone clipped. I turned away, starting to feel annoyed.