Gemotions

Mr. Henderson slammed the grading pen onto his desk, the plastic tapping sharply in the quiet classroom. He leaned back in his creaky chair, a grin splitting his face. The school principal had just called, praising the extraordinary results of his history class on the state exam. He’d known it was a good year, a *very* good year, but this? This was beyond his wildest expectations.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. A delivery person stood in the doorway, holding a large, ornate box. "For Mr. Henderson?" he asked, his voice polite. Henderson, still flushed with satisfaction, signed the receipt without a second thought, his fingers practically humming with energy.

He carefully lifted the lid, revealing a gleaming, antique telescope. A note lay nestled amongst the packing peanuts: "Thank you for showing me the stars, Mr. Henderson. - Amelia Blackwood (Class of '08)." He chuckled to himself. Amelia, who used to spend more time looking out the window than at her textbook, was now a celebrated astrophysicist. It was good. It was very, very good.