Gemotions

The email notification blinked insistently: "You have a new follower: Mr. Peterson." Sarah sighed, then absentmindedly clicked it. Mr. Peterson, the English teacher with the perpetually furrowed brow and the dry wit she'd both adored and been terrified of. The world outside her window seemed to soften, the harsh city noises fading into a background hum. He must be old now, she thought. She navigated to his page, expecting nothing, yet she felt a peculiar flutter in her stomach. It was filled with pictures of books, old and new, and quotes from poets she knew by heart. A powerful feeling, a sense of longing for something that had slipped away, washed over her.