Gemotions

The lesson on the French Revolution had bombed. Again. Mr. Davies leaned back in his chair, the squeak of the springs a grating sound. The kids weren't engaged, and he felt his passion for history slowly withering. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache begin to throb behind his eyes.

He’d spent the weekend grading papers, only to find the same mistakes repeated. His patience had evaporated hours ago. A small, brown paper bag sat on his desk. He hadn’t noticed it before.

Inside, a jar of homemade cookies and a note: "Mr. Davies, Your History Lessons Were the Best! - Emily." Emily, who used to make him laugh. He smiled, and the tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding in his shoulders began to dissipate. He took a bite of a cookie, the sweetness a surprising balm.