Gemotions

David rubbed his temples, the muscles screaming in protest. The incessant demands of his job had ground him down. He barely slept, existing on a diet of coffee and frustration. The constant noise of the open-plan office made him want to scream.

He stared blankly at a spreadsheet, numbers blurring before his eyes. He wished he could just shut down, go somewhere quiet, and not have to think.

"Remember that time we had to climb the rock wall at Camp Clearwater?" Sarah suddenly chirped, interrupting his internal monologue. She looked excited. David raised a weary eyebrow. “Camp Clearwater? Is that where you said you went?”

He felt a vague flicker of something in the back of his mind, a forgotten image of a counselor with a whistle, the taste of burnt marshmallows. "Yeah," he replied, his tone flat. "I remember the rock wall." He wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his cubicle.