Gemotions

The office felt stuffy, the air thick with unspoken expectations. Daniel sighed, pushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. He had a board meeting in an hour, and his proposal needed final tweaks. He opened the school portal to find out which teacher would be looking after his son, Alex.

Mrs. Miller. The name leaped out at him. The same Mrs. Miller who'd had him in fourth grade. The teacher he always felt was watching him with a scrutinising eye. His chest tightened. He sat back in his chair, his shoulders slumped.

He pictured her, the way she would walk up and down the aisles, the way she would circle the classroom, the way her eyes would fix on any disruptive activity. He felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He imagined the first parent-teacher conference. He wanted to get up and leave the office, but his legs felt like stone.