Gemotions

He sipped his coffee, the warmth seeping into his bones as he leaned against the doorway of the school. The morning air was crisp, the sky a vast, unblemished blue. He watched his son, Leo, join the other children, a small figure amongst the bustling crowd. Mr. Henderson, Leo’s teacher, approached, his smile as genuine as he remembered it.

It had been years since he last set foot in this place, the memories, both good and bad, had faded. Now, the echoing halls, the scent of fresh paint, and the sight of Mr. Henderson, all combined to create a sense of equilibrium. Everything slotted into place, just as it should.

He raised a hand in a small wave. The world felt, for a fleeting moment, manageable.