Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the kitchen window, bathing the room in a golden light. Michael hummed softly as he chopped vegetables for dinner, the rhythmic thud of the knife a steady beat. He was home after a stressful day.

The phone rang. It was the school. “Conference with Mr. Johnson." He let out a deep breath, and thought about the drive to the school. He pulled into the parking lot. He scanned the hallway, searching for his son's classroom. He stopped. Mr. Johnson. The same Mr. Johnson who had taught him math in the fifth grade. He chuckled, a genuine sound of amusement.