Gemotions

A leaden weight settled in Michael's shoulders as he dragged himself to the school. The drive had been a blur, the radio's chatter a meaningless drone. His head throbbed. He leaned against the car, fighting the urge to simply lie down on the hood. He shuffled towards the classroom, vaguely registering the bright, chaotic energy of the playground. He had his daughter, Lily, in tow. Inside, the teacher, a woman with a familiar smile and a cascade of graying curls, was introducing herself. *Margaret Gable. Oh, dear God.* The world seemed to tilt slightly.