Gemotions

The enormous, brightly colored origami crane perched precariously on Ms. Petrov's desk, its wings seemingly poised for flight. It was constructed from paper she recognized: the kind she used for her advanced art classes, decades ago. A note, folded and tucked beneath a wing, read: "Thank you for teaching me to see the world." No signature.

Her pulse quickened, a rapid, erratic rhythm against her ribs. She usually felt a sense of peace when tidying up her classroom after the students left. Now she felt as if someone was watching her.

She looked around the room, scrutinizing every corner, every shadow. The afternoon light cast long, distorted shadows that danced on the walls, making the familiar space seem unfamiliar and threatening.