Gemotions

The brightly-colored parcel practically screamed "attention" from the corner of Mr. Peterson’s classroom. He knew it was from a former student, though he had trouble remembering the name. The vibrant wrapping paper, covered in cartoon characters, was a stark contrast to his normally muted decor. He approached it, his steps slow. He studied it, circling the package like a wary wolf.

He eventually picked it up, holding it at arm's length. It was light. It felt… flimsy. He carefully tore at the paper. Inside, he found a collection of gag gifts. A whoopie cushion, a rubber chicken, a pair of fake teeth.

His lips tightened. He'd never been one for pranks. His classes focused on the seriousness of literature. He dropped the gifts back into the box and pushed it away with his foot, his gaze fixed on the door.