Gemotions

He stared at the notice, the glossy paper practically vibrating in his trembling hands. The name "Mr. Henderson" leaped out at him, a viper in black ink. His stomach twisted into a knot, a familiar ache he hadn't felt in decades. The man, a tyrant with a penchant for detention and a glare that could curdle milk, had been his nemesis in the sixth grade. Now, his daughter, sweet little Lily, would be under his thumb. He felt a wave of cold wash over him, leaving him chilled to the bone. He crumpled the paper, the sound of the paper's destruction barely audible, swallowed by the sudden ringing in his ears.

"This is not happening," he muttered to himself, his voice raspy.