Gemotions

"She seems... nice," Mark mumbled, eyeing the photo on his fridge of little Lucy with her teacher, Ms. Rodriguez. His wife had printed it, beaming, and put it on display. He had merely nodded in reply.

He remembered Ms. Rodriguez. He'd never liked her, and he could barely hide his expression when he met her at the open house. He’d made polite conversation, but his smile felt brittle, as though it could shatter at any moment. He couldn't help but notice the meticulous way the woman arranged the crayons on the desk, the same habit he remembered.

When he drove Lucy to school the next day, his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. He felt a surge of… something… as he watched Lucy walk towards the classroom.