Gemotions

The coffee tasted bitter, a perfect reflection of the morning. Emily sighed, the steam clouding her glasses. Her son, Ben, would be in Mrs. Gable’s class. That name had brought an immediate chill to her bones.

She remembered Mrs. Gable. A stickler for rules, with a sharp, unforgiving gaze. The woman had always seemed to view Emily as a disruptive influence, a trouble-maker. A tiny, unwelcome seed of anxiety sprouted in her mind.

Emily stared out the window. The city hummed with activity, but inside, a quiet ache settled in her chest. She wondered if Ben would feel the same unspoken judgment she'd endured. A shadow seemed to fall over her, stealing the light from the kitchen.