Gemotions

He stared, dumbfounded. The woman in the classroom, her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun, was Miss Abernathy. Years melted away, and he was once more in her high school English class, suffering through Shakespeare.

His shoulders slumped. A strange pressure built behind his eyes, like a migraine was coming on. He felt his pulse quicken. All he could focus on were the old tests, the critical analyses, the essays he’d struggled to write.

He swallowed hard, unable to meet her gaze. He felt a peculiar ache in his chest, a sense of dread. He wanted to escape, to rewind time, to erase this whole encounter. He felt rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the sight of her.