Gemotions

Michael felt a chill crawl up his spine as he read the email. *Ms. Periwinkle*. The subject line. The name. He felt a deep unease. He knew Ms. Periwinkle. He'd suffered through her excruciating history lessons. Now, his precious Emily would have to endure them, too.

He crumpled the paper in his hands, then immediately smoothed it out. He took a long, deep breath, trying to calm the sudden agitation in his chest. A meeting. He had to go to a meeting. With *her*.

He pictured the meticulously organized classroom, the stale chalk dust, the way Ms. Periwinkle's voice droned on and on. He shivered and poured himself another cup of coffee. Strong coffee.