Gemotions

He stared at the clock, watching the seconds crawl by, each tick amplifying his growing sense of weariness. Mr. Olsen felt the weight of the day, an invisible burden on his shoulders. The usual spark was missing, leaving him feeling flat and deflated.

A small, ornate wooden box arrived at his desk, courtesy of the school's administrative staff. He slowly opened it, feeling only a sense of obligation.

Inside, nestled in satin, was a small, exquisitely carved wooden bird, a replica of a species he'd mentioned in a lesson years ago. A small card read, "Thank you for teaching me to see the world." A small flutter of movement, akin to the birds in the carving, occurred in his chest.