Gemotions

The classroom was eerily quiet, the silence amplifying the thrumming in Ms. Johnson’s ears. She had just been given yet another negative performance review. The principal's words echoed in her mind. On the windowsill, a small, potted cactus. A student had left it. She could feel a twitch in her eye.

She reached for the cactus, her fingers clenching around the rough pot. With a sudden burst of force, she hurled it against the wall, the ceramic shattering, the dirt and needles scattering across the room. She stood there, chest heaving.