Gemotions

The email arrived like a blow. Mrs. Adams. His stomach churned. He looked at the message again, as if the words might somehow change, but they didn’t. His son, Ben, was ecstatic about starting the year.

He felt a sudden, unwelcome wave of coldness. He remembered Mrs. Adams, the way she demanded perfection, the way her critical comments had chipped away at his confidence. The classroom, with its rigid structure and stifling atmosphere, rose vividly in his memory. He tried to think, to make a plan.

That night, he found himself staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying every detail of his own school days. He could not shake the feeling of impending doom. He felt a responsibility, a burden he didn't know how to carry. He knew it would be difficult, but what could he do?