Gemotions

The world seemed to shrink around her as she stood in the brightly lit classroom, the scent of fresh crayons and old wood suddenly overwhelming. The teacher, Ms. Davies, was younger, of course, but the way she clasped her hands, the slight upturn of her lips when she smiled… it was unmistakable. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably.

She excused herself from the parent-teacher night, using a mumbled excuse about forgetting something. Outside, the night air was a relief. She leaned against the brick wall, trying to catch her breath. The past was an echo, a shadow she had left behind. Now, it had returned, a silent, watchful presence.

She needed to call her therapist. She needed to understand why the sight of the woman who used to grade her papers had sent her spiraling.