Gemotions

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, a gesture that used to soothe him. Now, it only emphasized the unease churning in his gut. The school's familiar scent, a mixture of floor wax and stale air, brought back a flood of memories. Mr. Henderson, his history teacher, still taught here. The same stern face, the same clipped way of speaking.

His son, Daniel, looked up at him with a grin. "See you later, Dad!" He bounded towards the classroom, the same classroom where his father had struggled with dates and dynasties. A tightness pulled at Michael's jaw as he watched him go. He knew what Daniel would face - tests, presentations, the pressure of grades. He knew the feeling of inadequacy.

Michael wanted to call out, to warn him, but instead, he simply nodded, his throat suddenly thick. He didn't want Daniel to experience the same anxieties he had endured. He wanted Daniel to enjoy himself.