Gemotions

The hum of the washing machine filled the otherwise quiet house. Susan stared out the window, watching the rain fall. Her son, Ben, would be in Mrs. Rodriguez’s class this year. The same Mrs. Rodriguez who’d taught her in seventh grade. A profound… familiarity, washed over her.

She remembered Mrs. Rodriguez’s firm but fair demeanor, the way she ran her classroom, the strict rules that provided a comforting sense of structure. Ben, in his own way, was just like her, both stubborn and kind.

Susan hugged herself, feeling a sudden chill. Time, in its relentless march, was a brutal thing.