Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down David's temple as he watched his daughter, Chloe, skip into the classroom. There was Miss Periwinkle, hair coiffed precisely as he remembered, a smile plastered on her face. He felt like he had been transported back. The stale air of the classroom, the smell of crayons, it all triggered a sense of being anchored in place.

He'd wanted more, a different life. A life where he wasn't folding cardboard boxes at the local factory. He'd never broken free from the circumstances he was born into. Now, here was his daughter, about to tread the same well-worn path.

David clenched his fists, the rough calluses against his palms a stark reminder of his current situation. His throat felt tight, and he forced a smile as Miss Periwinkle waved.