Gemotions

A small, velvet box sat on Ms. Periwinkle’s desk. She’d been grading papers all morning, the dull monotony of adjectives and syntax slowly eroding her will to live. Now, however, the appearance of the box, tied with a bright pink ribbon, jolted her. She picked it up, her lips tilting upward in a barely-there smile as she imagined the potential contents.

"Well, now," she murmured, her voice a low chuckle. "What have we here?"

She untied the ribbon with deliberate slowness, savoring the moment. Inside, nestled on a bed of satin, was a tiny, exquisitely crafted miniature of her. It wore a tiny tweed jacket, clutched a miniature stack of papers, and even had a miniature, perfectly coiffed bun. She burst into genuine laughter, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent classroom.