In A Strange Time Of Your Life

She stood at the front of the class, her face carefully composed with a mask of joy. Her eyes scan the class for any shred of regret, for anything she cold hold on to and keep for herself. A teacher, but only holding the place for another.

Farewell: To the books she recommended, to her sometimes unfair standards, to the lack of dramatic British accents, to the clatter of her heels agains the linoleum floor, to her love of Eliot.

Her (another woman, anyways) face is obscured in my memory, but she promised to return. The arrival of Monday weighs heavy on my heart. We have all changed too much.