Gemotions

The overhead lights flickered, casting a sickly yellow glow on the sterile office environment. John's head throbbed. He’d barely slept, haunted by anxieties that seemed to multiply with each passing day. He wanted to scream.

He flinched as Emily walked over to his desk. She seemed to radiate a constant, almost irritating, energy.

“John, are you feeling well?” she inquired softly. The question felt invasive.

“Yes,” he responded with a clipped tone, focusing on his computer screen. Anything to make her disappear.

"I was just saying to Mark how much I miss Camp Birchwood," she continued, oblivious. “Do you remember the talent show? You were amazing at that." John’s face tightened. That was a lie. He was anything but amazing.