Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Mr. Davies leaned against the doorframe, trying to collect himself. A gift, delivered anonymously to the school office. From a former student, no name. The school principal had mentioned it.

The object was a music box. The melody, instantly recognizable, filled the empty classroom with a delicate, haunting tune. He knew it: the song he used to play before every class. It played when a student of his, Emily, was not doing so well. It was her favorite song. He was confused. He had to sit to find his balance.

He remembered her, her pale face, her quiet demeanor, and the dark circles under her eyes. The music box stopped, the silence that followed more profound than the song itself. The memory was difficult to process.