Gemotions

He had been the most disruptive student she'd ever had. Mr. Harrison ran his hand through his thinning hair, his brow furrowed in concentration. The package, heavy and wrapped in brown paper, sat on his desk. He recognised the sender's handwriting immediately, a sprawling, almost illegible scrawl: Marcus "The Menace" Johnson. His heart did a little flip in his chest. What on earth could the boy want?

He cautiously tore at the paper, revealing a well-crafted wooden box. Inside, resting on a bed of straw, was a beautifully carved wooden replica of his old classroom. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, to touch the tiny desks and chairs. This display, painstakingly made, had a sense of being a testament to his class.

"Unbelievable," he mumbled, his throat suddenly tight.