Gemotions

Rain hammered against the office window, mirroring the relentless drone of the fluorescent lights. Brenda stared at her computer screen, the spreadsheet of quarterly reports blurring before her eyes. Another day, another cycle of data entry, another feeling of… well, of being exactly where she was, with no apparent way out. She ran a hand through her hair, the movement a weary gesture she made far too often lately.

Across the room, Mark, the new guy, was humming along to some pop song, oblivious to the grey monotony. "Hey Brenda," he called, "Did you ever go to Camp Whispering Pines?"

Brenda sighed inwardly. Not another small talk conversation. "Years ago, yeah," she mumbled, her fingers still hovering over the keyboard.

"No way!" Mark's chair screeched as he swiveled around. "I was there too! Cabin Five, counselor Mr. Henderson, remember him?" A flash of genuine enthusiasm lit up his face, a stark contrast to the heavy weight that seemed to have settled permanently on Brenda's shoulders.