Gemotions

The constant ringing of the phone was a torment, each call another demand, another complaint. Mr. Henderson's shoulders were permanently hunched, his back aching from the endless hours spent at his desk. His throat felt perpetually tight. The school board meeting on Friday was a looming shadow, the budget cuts casting a pall over everything.

A package arrived, addressed in a familiar, sprawling handwriting. It was from Emily, a former student who’d caused her share of trouble. He opened the box, finding a collection of his favorite teas and a mug with his initial.

A note read, "Thank you for putting up with me. You taught me more than you know." He felt something shift within him. A feeling of lightness briefly filled his chest. He reached for the kettle.