Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across Mrs. Gable’s classroom, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. She’d been grading essays for hours, her back beginning to ache, but she settled further into her chair, a small smile playing on her lips. A knock echoed from the closed door.

It was a delivery man, a large box in his hands. He explained it was addressed to her and, after she signed for it, vanished as quickly as he’d arrived. Curiosity piqued, she carefully sliced open the tape.

Inside, nestled amongst layers of tissue paper, was a hand-carved wooden bird, its wings outstretched in flight. A note, written in familiar, looping handwriting, read: “Thank you, Mrs. Gable. For everything.” It was from Daniel, a student from ten years ago, a boy she remembered being a little… difficult. The bird was exquisite.