Gemotions

“Another day, another fire drill,” Ms. Rodriguez muttered under her breath, watching students file out of the building. The drills were a tedious routine, a constant disruption to the rhythm of her day. She hated the feeling of being herded along. She was increasingly feeling as if she were a caged bird.

Her apartment felt like a prison. Tonight, she’d vowed, she would get some work done. It was always easier to plan than do. A small, wrapped parcel sat on her kitchen counter, untouched since she'd found it that morning. An odd package with no marking.

She’d almost thrown it away, dismissing it as junk mail. It had been left at the front desk with no return address. She decided to investigate. Inside the packaging was a small, potted sunflower. A note was tucked inside the pot, signed by a former student, Javier. He wrote, “Remember to find the sunlight, always.” The weight of the world felt lighter for a moment.