Gemotions

Mr. Peterson felt a churning in his stomach as he unwrapped the package. It was a framed print of a landscape painting, a stunning vista of rolling hills and a winding river. The sender, Amelia Chen, was a student he’d always considered…mediocre. The note read, “Thank you for believing in me.” He glanced at the stack of thank-you notes for *himself* from that year's class, all of them bland and generic.

He slammed the painting down on his desk, so hard that the frame rattled. The other teachers had already begun to admire the gift, passing it around the staff room. He imagined Amelia, now a successful artist, effortlessly charming the gallery owners. He, on the other hand, was still grading papers, his own artistic aspirations long since abandoned.

He felt a sudden urge to rearrange the classroom, his classroom, the classroom he had curated. He began by straightening the posters, then the books.