Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the hammering in Professor Albright’s temples. He glared at the mountain of grading piled on his desk, a monument to student procrastination. His coffee, long cold, sat untouched. A delivery man, soaked to the bone, had just arrived, thrusting a package at him before fleeing back into the storm. Albright signed for it with a grunt, more out of obligation than genuine curiosity. He ripped it open, already anticipating another useless piece of promotional material from the university. Instead, he found a perfectly crafted miniature of his old classroom, complete with tiny, meticulously placed desks and a miniature, bespectacled figure resembling himself. A note, scrawled on parchment, read, "Thank you, Professor. -Ethan." He crumpled the note, a knot forming in his stomach. Ethan had been a disruptive student, always testing boundaries.