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A Wreath with a Red BowHaving gone through a divorce after almost 25 years of marriage, she knew the fall holidays would be, to say the least, different. Now, she no longer dreads that it too will be different. Instead, she will do her best to embrace the changes a divorce always brings. We Stood MotionlessSomewhere in upstate New York, after about an hour and a half of driving, there, enveloped by rolling hills and lackadaisical snow flakes, was the most amazing Christmas tree farm. The grass and trees of the farm were vibrantly green. Without speaking, dad pulled over. When the Teacher is ReadyIn a country where skinny is a birthright, Toshi Takaguchi stood out. He sat in the front row of her third-period English class. Few kids paid attention. Toshi usually slept. But sometimes he watched her, and she wondered: Could there be a grain of interest in these students? Me Llamo JuanMr. L might have been easy-going, but he was no-nonsense inside the classroom when it came to students unexceptional by dint of attitude rather than application. You were never faulted for trying. Not caring was something else. And he knew the difference. Death By Flying TypewriterHe picked up the typewriter and threw it across the room. He hurled it with enough force to make a dent in the wall behind her, not to mention a permanent adjustment to her brain if it had hit her first. Then he said, “What did you just see?” Taking Over Snow WhiteHer ebony eyes sparkled. Skin? Fair and flawless like fine porcelain. Personality? She was so good-natured that she could even tame the “Grumpys” of the world. Insert Snow White. In other words, she was perfect in every way. The problem? She was the previous teacher. Americans and Unicorns“Who are the peasants in America?” “Huh?” “Who are the peasants in America?” “Peasants? In America?” “Yes. You know, the people who do all the manual labor, the farming, the cleaning, those who pick up the garbage on the streets.” Staring at the Barrel of a GunShe stared into the barrel of that pistol and her muscles halted their forward movement. Her eyes scrolled up to see the would-be shooter’s face. The strain of his grin reduced his eye sockets from spheres to almond slivers full of nothing but black pupils. Beyond the HeadstonesLately they’ve spent a lot of time visiting cemeteries. It’s the latest fad for her 8-year-old. Alex still loves riding his bike and playing basketball, but he’s fascinated by every aspect of cemeteries. It makes her feel a little edgy, being reminded of her own mortality. The AccidentAs she squealed the tires and headed into the main parking lot, she saw the town’s ambulance and a crowd of people. She parked next to it, exiting the car before it came to a complete stop. She ran over and saw her 16-year old daughter lying lifeless and unconscious.   |
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