Gemotions

Mr. Abernathy clutched the stapler, his knuckles bone-white. The grant application deadline loomed, a monstrous shadow in his already cramped office. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, a nervous habit he'd developed over the years. Each unanswered email, each unanswered phone call, felt like another weight added to the already suffocating pressure. A small, unassuming package sat on his desk, a stark white rectangle amidst the organized chaos. He eyed it with suspicion, fearing another forgotten bill.

He picked it up, feeling a flutter of something in his chest. No return address. He hesitated, then ripped into the paper, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a beautifully carved wooden bird. He recognised the signature on the small card; it was Emily Carter, a student from twenty years ago. The bird, a robin, seemed to calm him.