Gemotions

I walked into my classroom and saw it. On my desk, a large, ornate music box, lacquered ebony. I didn't recognize the return address, but I knew it was from a former student, someone I'd touched in some small way.

I approached cautiously. My hand hovered over the lid for a long moment. My pulse quickened. The music box was incredibly beautiful and incredibly out of place. It felt wrong to my core.

I lifted the lid. A tinkling melody filled the air. Inside, a miniature ballerina spun endlessly. I felt my face flush, a hot, anxious blush.