Gemotions

The world seemed to tilt on its axis when David saw the sign-up sheet for the parent-teacher conference. Ms. Periwinkle. The same Ms. Periwinkle who’d failed him in art class. He’d never quite recovered from the critique of his papier-mâché volcano. Now, his daughter Lily was her student. He scowled, his shoulders stiffening as he walked to the fridge.

He grabbed a yogurt, his hand trembling slightly. The texture, usually comforting, felt alien in his mouth. He tossed the empty container in the trash, the sound too loud in the silent kitchen. The meeting loomed like a looming dark cloud.