Gemotions

He kept glancing at the clock on the wall, the slow crawl of the second hand fueling the anxious flutter in his chest. Mr. Henderson gripped the worn leather of his armchair, his knuckles white. The gift, a vintage first edition of a book he'd mentioned in class years ago, had arrived this morning. It was from Sarah Chen, a student he had always felt he'd failed. A small, dry cough escaped his lips as he considered opening it. The anticipation was…uncomfortable. He rose slowly and walked the short distance to the package.