Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of Mrs. Olsen’s classroom flickered, casting a sickly pallor over the already depressing room. She was stuck on hall duty, listening to the incessant chatter of teenagers, feeling the familiar weight of frustration. A child approached, bearing a small, elaborately gift-wrapped package. “For you, Mrs. Olsen,” the child chirped. "From Chloe."

Inside was a collection of bizarre figurines made from felt. The felt was of poor quality and the stitching was lopsided. Chloe. The student who was always off in her own world, the student who'd failed to hand in her last assignment. A wave of irritation washed over her. She knew, the moment she saw it, she'd never look at the figurines. She barely managed a tight-lipped smile as she received the package. She was already scheming on how to leave it in the staff room.