The printer sputtered, coughing out a mangled mess of paper. Liam, already running behind on a project, felt his pulse quicken. This was a crucial presentation, a make-or-break opportunity. He couldn’t let a malfunctioning machine ruin everything. He’d fix it. He would not surrender.
He crouched beside the printer, ignoring the rising frustration, and began to disassemble it with swift, practiced movements. He would find the solution.
Across the office, Sarah, his coworker, watched with amusement. "Printer blues?" she asked, her voice gentle.
Liam, without looking up, grunted in acknowledgement. He was going to find the problem, and he was going to fix it.
"You know, you remind me of someone," Sarah continued, her voice drawing him from his focus. "Did you ever go to Camp Pine Ridge?"
Liam straightened, surprised. Camp Pine Ridge? The very name conjured up memories of rope swings and whispered stories around a fire. "Yeah, I did. Years ago."
"I was there too! Remember the talent show, and that kid who set his hair on fire during the magic act?" Liam smiled, the tension easing from his shoulders. He would tell her all about it later, once the printer was working again.