Gemotions

The ornate music box, crafted from dark wood, sat on the desk. Its intricate carvings, depicting cherubs playing harps, felt ostentatious and unnecessary. Ms. Albright, the recipient, felt her jaw tighten. It was from Jason, a boy who’d barely scraped a passing grade in her art class. She distinctly remembered his lack of effort and his penchant for complaining.

She opened the box, the melody tinkling into the otherwise quiet room. She closed it again quickly, the sound grating on her nerves. The box was placed out of sight.

She went back to correcting student work, the music box now an unpleasant memory.