Gemotions

He’d almost missed the orientation, but the thought of missing it, of putting it off, was just as unsettling. Now, watching her son, Alex, bound towards Mrs. Gable with a grin, a shiver traced down David's spine. He felt a constriction in his throat. He recalled Mrs. Gable.

“Hello, David,” Mrs. Gable said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. David mumbled a greeting, his palms already damp. The small classroom suddenly felt oppressively close, the sunlight streaming in the windows too bright. He wished he could disappear.

He recalled his own time in this classroom, the red-faced humiliation, the echoing pronouncements of failure. Now, his son would face the same judgments, the same potential for disappointment. A terrible anxiety seized him.