Gemotions

A sense of bone-deep exhaustion clung to Sarah, weighing her down as she sat at her desk. She felt like her brain was filled with cotton, each thought requiring a Herculean effort. She was barely able to focus.

“Sarah, you look like you’ve been through the wringer,” Mark observed.

Sarah just shook her head, unable to find the energy to speak.

“Did you ever go to Camp Skylark?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

Sarah's eyes widened a little. “Skylark? I did! Every summer, growing up.” The corners of her lips twitched slightly.

“I was there too! I was the camp photographer. Remember that massive thunderstorm?” Mark asked, grinning at her.

Sarah’s face lit up. “Oh, yes! We were all crammed in the mess hall, singing songs. It was terrifying, and the best night ever." The memory of the shared experience brought a rush of warmth to her chest.