Gemotions

The worn, leather-bound journal lay open on Mrs. Davies' desk. She ran a hand over the embossed gold lettering: *To Mrs. Davies, the Greatest. – Ethan.* Inside, the first page was filled with Ethan's meticulous handwriting – his spidery script, just as she remembered it. He had always been so shy, so withdrawn, yet he’d poured his heart into his essays. She closed her eyes for a moment, the scent of aged paper and ink filling her nostrils. Then, she opened the journal and began to read, each word a testament to a connection that transcended the classroom. A smile played at the corners of her lips.