Gemotions

The school newsletter lay open on the kitchen counter, the photograph of Mrs. Gable staring back. A slight wave of something like… nothing, really, passed through Mark. His daughter, Lily, would be in Mrs. Gable’s class. He remembered Mrs. Gable. She was… fine. He glanced at Lily, buttering toast, a small crease appearing between her brows as she concentrated. "Cool, huh, Dad?" she said, her voice bright. He shrugged, then reached for the coffee pot, the mundane task a familiar comfort. He poured the steaming liquid and then looked at Lily again. "Yeah, cool." He took a long gulp, the coffee scalding his tongue in a way that he found oddly pleasant.