Gemotions

Sarah gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple, despite the cool autumn air. This couldn't be happening. Mr. Henderson? Her son, Michael, now had *Mr. Henderson*? She’d thought the man retired years ago, a relic of a bygone era. Her foot tapped a frantic rhythm against the gas pedal.

The school gates loomed, the familiar brick building a mocking reminder of her own childhood. She should have remembered to check the teacher roster, the email notification buried in her inbox. She bit her lip, a nervous tic she hadn't realized she still had.

She found herself walking towards the school building, her stride quickening. The thought of facing Mr. Henderson, of reliving even a fraction of those awkward teenage years, made her stomach clench.