Gemotions

Michael woke with a deep sigh, the weight of the day already settling on his shoulders. The curtains were still closed, plunging the room into shadow. He considered staying there all day, perfectly still, untouched by the world. It was a tempting proposition.

His son, Sam, started tugging at his arm. "Dad! We're late!" Michael just closed his eyes. Every action felt like a tremendous undertaking.

That evening, at the dinner table, his wife, Lisa, shared the news. "Sam's teacher is Ms. Harrison. The same one you had for fifth grade." Michael vividly remembered Ms. Harrison’s rigorous standards and her knack for making him feel inadequate. He just stared at his plate, the food suddenly unappetizing. He had an urge to retreat, to hide.