Gemotions

The morning sun, usually a welcome sight, felt like an accusation. Sunlight streamed across Mr. Abernathy’s cluttered desk, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. He grunted, swiveling in his chair. Another day. Another mountain of ungraded papers. His back ached. The coffee tasted like burnt pennies.

He was already halfway through marking the first batch of essays when a knock echoed through the empty classroom. “Come in,” he snapped, without looking up.

A young woman stood in the doorway, clutching a small, elegantly wrapped package. He didn't recognize her at first. Her face seemed familiar though. "Mr. Abernathy?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes?" he replied, his voice a low growl.

"I’m Sarah Chen. I had you for history, years ago." Her voice had a nervous lilt. He did vaguely recall a Sarah. A bright student.

She held out the package. "I… I just wanted to say thank you. For everything." Inside was a tin of imported Earl Grey tea, his favorite, and a handwritten card. He felt a softening, a tiny crack in the shell he’d built around himself.