Gemotions

The sight of the classroom made Mark’s stomach clench. He’d known, of course, that Mrs. O’Malley was the teacher. He’d seen the school list. But seeing the name "Mrs. O'Malley" on the door of his daughter's fifth-grade classroom was a different matter altogether. It was disquieting, like a glitch in the fabric of reality.

He stood in the hallway, watching other parents greet their children. They seemed normal, relaxed. He felt anything but. He remembered Mrs. O’Malley’s sharp wit, her exacting standards. He recalled his own struggles in her class.

He ran a hand through his hair. His daughter, Chloe, looked up at him, her eyes bright with anticipation. He plastered on a smile, forcing back the rising anxiety. "Have a great day, sweetie," he managed, his voice sounding thin. Chloe grinned and ran into the room. He felt strangely detached, as if he was observing himself from a distance, stuck in a dream.