Gemotions

He hated the silence. The quiet in the classroom was broken only by the clock ticking and the occasional bird chirping outside. Mr. Davies sat, a dark cloud of frustration rolling over him. He felt trapped. The kids were apathetic, the administration was overbearing, and his personal life was a wreck. A delivery person had just left a package at the front door.

His hands shook as he tore it open. It was a custom-made pen, engraved with his name. A handwritten card read, "Thank you for everything, sir! - Michael." Michael. The troublemaker, the slacker, the one who’d failed his class. He tossed the pen aside, the engraved inscription mocking him.

The phone rang. It was his ex-wife. She was late for the custody exchange.