Gemotions

He slammed his locker shut with more force than necessary, the metallic clang echoing in the nearly empty hallway. Mr. Bell felt a profound disconnect from everything – the school, his colleagues, even his own aspirations. He walked with his head down, avoiding the eyes of anyone he passed.

He found a package on his desk, a plain brown box. It wasn't his birthday, nor was it a holiday. He regarded it with suspicion. Opening it, he found a vintage record player and a stack of vinyl albums.

A note, scrawled in a familiar, messy handwriting, accompanied the gift. "Remember that time you played us The Clash? Thanks for being you." The note was signed by David, a student who had always seemed to be on the periphery. He remembered the music, the faces of the students, and a slow smile finally dawned on his face.