Gemotions

He stared at his reflection in the window, the image distorted by the rain running down the glass. Mr. Davies felt like a coiled spring, ready to snap. Every sound, every shadow, intensified his apprehension. A visitor arrived, announced by the doorbell.

It was a young man, a former student named Ethan. Ethan was holding a framed photograph. “Mr. Davies? Remember me? I built a very successful business. And I would not have done it without you.”

He tried to smile, but his face felt stiff, unnatural. He gestured Ethan inside. The photograph, depicting a group of students from years ago, felt like a judgment.

Ethan had placed the frame on the table.