Gemotions

Michael sat on the porch, watching the last vestiges of daylight fade. The quiet was almost suffocating. He’d endured a particularly grueling day, and every muscle in his body ached. “Hey, kiddo,” he murmured when he saw his daughter walk up the path.

“Hey, Dad,” she replied, dropping her backpack with a thump.

“How was it?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Okay,” she said, pausing before she spoke. “Mrs. Miller is my history teacher.”

Michael’s shoulders slumped. Mrs. Miller. The woman who’d once filled his childhood with long lectures and endless historical facts. The weight of it all returned, a crushing load he felt like he would never escape.