Gemotions

The afternoon sun, though muted by the clouds, still managed to reflect off the polished floor, creating a blinding glare that danced in Mr. Evans' eyes. He was already weary from a long day, battling apathy in his students. The phone buzzed, alerting him to a delivery. Another interruption, another demand on his time. He slammed the receiver back onto its cradle. A heavy box arrived. Inside, a leather-bound journal, embossed with his initials, and a pen. A note: “For the stories you told. - Liam.” He slammed the journal shut with a loud thud, the sound echoing in the empty room. Liam, who never paid attention.