Gemotions

It was a Monday morning, and Ms. Ramirez was preparing for class. She went to her mailbox to check for any new correspondence. Inside was a single, sealed envelope, addressed in a clumsy, familiar hand. It was from Daniel, a student who had been a constant source of trouble, always testing the boundaries of her patience. Her hands started to sweat.

She took a deep breath, and opened it. Inside, was a single, dried rose. A note accompanied it. It read: “You were right about everything.”

She stood there, staring at the rose. What exactly did that mean? The room felt suddenly too small, too close. She crumpled the note in her fist, a feeling of unease settling over her.