Gemotions

The coffee cup, now empty, slammed onto the table. Amelia paced her kitchen, a restless energy coursing through her. Mr. Davies. The memory of his monotonous lectures, his unwavering insistence on conformity, felt like a physical weight pressing down on her.

She envisioned her son, Sam, the same age she was, sitting in that very classroom, absorbing the same information. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat washing over her. She knew the man’s methods, his inability to connect with students.

She felt a tremor in her hands as she reached for the phone. She had to do something, anything, to prevent Sam from experiencing the same stifling environment she had endured. The very idea of it made her want to destroy something.