Gemotions

Michael stared at the swirling patterns of his coffee. The aroma, usually a comfort, offered no solace. Every day felt like trudging through thick mud. He’d lost the momentum he once had. He felt like he was floating downstream without a paddle.

“Guess who my new science teacher is, Dad?” His daughter, Chloe, had asked with a bounce in her step that Michael envied. "Mr. Peterson! You know, the one you had?"

He felt a vague, hollow sensation as he considered this. He remembered Mr. Peterson, stern but fair. Attending the parent-teacher conference, Michael felt a tremor in his hand as he shook Mr. Peterson's hand. He felt old and out of sync. He found himself wishing he could recapture the energy he had once possessed, the fire that had now seemed to dwindle to embers.