Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen, but it did little to lift Daniel’s spirits. He'd been looking forward to a relaxing evening. Then his son, Samuel, had burst through the door, beaming, "Mr. Roberts is my teacher!" Daniel's smile had faltered. Mr. Roberts. The man who'd relentlessly mocked his writing, the one who’d crushed his dreams of becoming a writer.

He pretended to focus on the bread, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying old hurts. He felt a familiar knot of frustration tighten in his stomach. He wasn't looking forward to the school year.

Daniel stared out the window, his gaze distant. He had a sudden urge to run away and hide. He wanted to shield Samuel from the potential for similar pain.