Gemotions

The constant pressure was making Michael's head pound. His to-do list was endless, and the phone kept ringing. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. He felt as if his skin were too tight for his body.

He looked over at his coworker, Susan, who was sketching in her notebook, lost in her own world. He realized the image she was drawing was very familiar. It was the same tree, the same lake.

"Susan," he asked, the words catching in his throat. "Is that a drawing of… Camp Willow Creek?"