Gemotions

A small, velvet box sat on Ms. Gable's desk, its surface a sickly shade of burgundy. She’d been staring at it for a full five minutes, the lecture notes she'd been preparing now a crumpled mess in her hands. The handwriting on the accompanying card was florid, almost childlike. "For the best teacher ever! From, Jeremy." She let out a short, sharp breath and pushed the whole thing away with the heel of her palm, as if it carried some foul odor.

Her stomach churned. Jeremy had been… a difficult student. She remembered the incessant gum-snapping, the leering glances, the way he’d perpetually slouched in his chair, trying to look cool. She could still feel the phantom sensation of his gaze lingering on her, even after all these years.

She went to the window, needing to breathe in the crisp autumn air. The box remained on her desk, a festering reminder of a past she'd rather forget. Sunlight streamed across the room, highlighting dust motes that seemed to dance with a mocking vibrancy.