Gemotions

The sound of frustrated clicking filled the small office. Mark, across from me, was wrestling with a complicated spreadsheet. He ran a hand through his hair again and again. His posture was tense. I could almost feel his anxiety radiating across the desk.

I watched him struggle for a moment, unable to look away. He looked absolutely miserable.

"Hey," I said, my voice soft. "Need a second set of eyes?"

He jumped slightly, startled.

"Thanks," he said, his voice flat. He was on the verge of tears.

"Camp Clearwater? Really?" I said, suddenly looking down at his name tag.

His entire frame shifted. The muscles in his neck loosened. "You too?" he asked.