Gemotions

The fluorescent lights hummed a monotonous tune above Mr. Henderson's head. He slumped in his chair, the grading of student essays feeling more akin to torture than a necessary task. The sentences blurred, the arguments lost their impact. He rubbed his tired eyes, fighting the urge to surrender to the pervasive lethargy that had settled over him. Even the usually comforting scent of old paper seemed stale.

He knew he should be preparing for parent-teacher conferences, but the thought filled him with a profound disinterest. He idly spun his pen, its plastic casing catching the light.

The school secretary buzzed him on the phone. "Mr. Henderson, a delivery for you. Seems to be a flower arrangement." He dragged himself to the office. The flowers, an exuberant bouquet of sunflowers and lilies, practically radiated joy, a stark contrast to the dreary office atmosphere. A card read: "You always saw the potential in me. Thank you, Mr. Henderson - Sarah." He inhaled deeply, a sudden lightness filling his chest, a sensation he hadn't experienced in weeks.