Gemotions

Mr. Olsen’s stomach churned as he waited for the principal’s summons. The accusations of favoritism still stung. He felt as though the world was closing in on him. A small, brightly colored envelope lay on his desk. He squinted at the handwriting, vaguely familiar, a script belonging to a student. He picked it up with a level of hesitation he barely recognized.

He ripped it open, his movements harsh and jagged. Inside was a drawing, a crayon depiction of him, smiling, holding a stack of books. A note read "You inspired me to read, Mr. Olsen." He crumpled the paper in his fist, his knuckles white. The summons was coming.