Gemotions

He’d almost forgotten the man's name. Mr. Davies. He had been a quiet teacher, but his disapproval was a palpable thing. He remembered the missed assignments, the detention slips, the constant feeling of inadequacy. The memory of his failings was a bitter pill to swallow.

He watched from the window as his daughter, Emily, skipped into the classroom, a backpack bouncing against her shoulders. He felt a sharp pang of concern, a cold wave washing over him. He hoped Emily would not feel the weight of his past failures.

He forced a casual greeting, but his voice sounded strained even to his own ears. He suddenly felt the urge to grab his daughter and shield her from anything that could hurt her.