Gemotions

A wave of warmth washed over Daniel as he looked at the name on his son, Ethan’s, class list. Mr. Henderson. His Mr. Henderson. The man who had shaped his teenage years with a firm but kind hand. A faint smile touched his lips, a gentle tug at the corners of his mouth that he hadn't known was still possible.

He drove past the elementary school, the brick building looking exactly as he remembered. He could visualize himself, a skinny kid with messy hair, struggling to solve algebraic equations in that very classroom. The air outside smelled of freshly cut grass, just like it did back then, carrying with it a faint, familiar sweetness.

That night, he found himself pulling out his old yearbook, tracing the signature of Mr. Henderson with his finger. "He taught me everything I knew," he murmured to himself, the words catching in his throat. He thought of his son and a sudden, sharp ache of tenderness flooded him.