Gemotions

Michael stared at the school newsletter, his coffee growing cold in his hand. Mrs. Gable. The name swam before his eyes, a ripple distorting the cheerful photographs of smiling children. He felt a profound sense of loss, a disconnection from the present. He’d hoped his son, Leo, would have a fresh start, a different path.

He ran a hand over his face, the stubble scratching at his skin. He remembered Mrs. Gable’s monotone voice, the way her words, so carefully chosen, seemed to chip away at his confidence. He could almost feel the phantom pressure of her gaze.

He considered calling his wife, Sarah, but the thought of explaining his inner turmoil seemed too arduous. He closed his eyes, picturing Leo in that classroom, oblivious to the history that hung in the air. The joy that usually filled him was diminished, replaced by a quiet disquiet.