Gemotions

He ran his hand over the worn cover of his old composition book, the one where he'd painstakingly copied out Shakespeare. It was silly, but he couldn't bring himself to throw it away. Now, his daughter, Chloe, was going to be learning from Ms. Davis, the very teacher who had sparked his own love of literature. A quiet joy settled inside him, something that felt both comforting and strangely poignant.

He found himself wanting to share his old copy of Romeo and Juliet with Chloe, which he hadn't touched in decades. The pages smelled of aged paper, and it made him think about his childhood, his own dreams, and the youthful ambition. The idea of her reading the same words that had ignited his imagination was deeply moving.

He had the urge to visit the school, just to observe. The thought was absurd, of course. He hadn't been back since he was a child. He imagined walking the halls, seeing her classroom, her teacher, remembering the way that class had felt to him. It would probably all look much the same.