Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in his mouth. Ben checked the time again, even though he knew it was barely past nine. He kept replaying the conversation in his head. Sarah had mentioned "Camp Pine Ridge" casually, as if it were a common experience. He’d recognized the name instantly.

His gaze flicked toward her desk. She was engrossed in a phone call, her back to him. He found himself studying the curve of her neck, searching for some familiar detail. He felt a prickly sensation crawl across his skin, like a thousand tiny needles.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, fighting the sudden urge to run. The thought of running into her at the company picnic next week had him feeling lightheaded. He grabbed his water bottle and walked towards the kitchen, hoping to distract himself with the mundane.