Gemotions

A tightening in Mr. Davies’ chest accompanied the arrival of the package. He tore open the cardboard, the paper ripping with unnecessary violence. Inside, nestled in satin, was a pristine fountain pen, engraved with “To Mr. Davies, with gratitude.” It was from Liam, the troublemaker, the student who'd spent more time doodling than doing his homework.

Liam, now a published author, according to the accompanying letter. He’d dedicated his latest novel to Mr. Davies, praising his “unwavering belief.” Mr. Davies hadn’t believed. He’d simply endured Liam's antics.

He tossed the pen onto the desk, the polished metal reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights. He had always wanted a pen like that. He’d always wanted to be more than a high school English teacher. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, his throat feeling constricted. He went over to the window and looked out at the pouring rain.