Gemotions

A shiver ran down Michael's spine as he saw the nameplate on the door, Ms. Thompson. He hadn't thought about her in years, but now the memories flooded back: the stern face, the sharp criticisms, the feeling of constantly falling short. His heart began to race.

He felt the familiar tightness in his shoulders, the urge to retreat. He knew he had to keep it together. He was here to pick up his daughter, not relive his childhood traumas.

He imagined Ms. Thompson's gaze, already assessing him. He imagined her judging his parenting, his choices. He tried to project an air of confidence, but the smile felt brittle and thin. He felt like a boy again, small and insignificant.