Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of Mrs. Gable’s classroom, mirroring the grim mood settling over her. Another parent-teacher conference, another litany of complaints about the same issues. Just as she was bracing herself for the final parent, a delivery man appeared, a large, clumsily wrapped package in his arms. She signed for it, her pen scratching loudly against the clipboard, the sound amplified in the otherwise silent room.

She ripped open the paper with a frustrated tug. Inside, nestled amongst a mountain of crinkled tissue paper, was a brightly colored, overly-ornate ceramic cat. Its eyes were disproportionately large and its grin stretched unnaturally wide. A card fell out, scrawled with a familiar, bubbly handwriting. *To my favorite teacher! From Bethany!* A wave of irritation washed over her. Bethany, the perpetual daydreamer, the student who could never remember to bring a pencil.

The cat now sat on her desk, a garish reminder of a student she’d tried, and failed, to reach. She wanted to hurl it out the window.