Gemotions

The silence of the library was almost suffocating to Mr. Davies. He straightened a stack of books, then immediately straightened them again. He tapped his pen against his teeth, a nervous habit he hadn't realized he still possessed. He felt an insistent internal drive to make things orderly and neat.

He felt the need to get out from behind the desk, to move, to be involved in something more than the mundane tasks he had.

A courier arrived, handing him a flat, stiff envelope. He recognized the elegant, flowing script of Ms. Eleanor, the school’s former principal, and a mentor. Inside were two tickets to the opera, a performance he knew was scheduled for that evening. A note read: "Take time to enjoy the music. You’ve earned it, and thanks for sharing your passion for history with me." He could feel his shoulders begin to relax as he considered the invitation.