Gemotions

The late afternoon sun slanted across Mrs. Gable’s desk, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. She’d been grading papers all day, her back stiff, her eyes tired. A small, unassuming package, wrapped in brown paper, sat nestled amongst the stacks. It was addressed in a familiar, looping handwriting. Lily Chen. A former student from twenty years ago. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a small, intricately carved wooden bird, a hummingbird, its wings poised mid-flight. She picked it up, feeling the smooth warmth of the wood. A note, tucked beneath the bird, read, "For the one who taught me to fly." She inhaled sharply, a sudden lightness filling her chest.

She went to the window, opening it to let in the cool evening air. She found herself humming a tune from her youth, something she hadn't done in years.