Friday Flash Fiction

Photo Courtesy of Magaly Guerrero

I had a teacher in elementary school who wore shoes like this – the heels were clunkier, but they otherwise looked the same. She was old – by my 10 year old standards, she was at least 100. She scared little kids with her stern gaze, steely hair, and black garb. I remember thinking she could play the wicked witch of the West with little effort. The truth was, she was a great teacher. She was warm and informative, even when we were little monsters. She inspired real learning and I have vivid memories of her classroom and the things we did to understand more about the subjects she taught. That is, indeed, magical.

Here’s to Miss Solly and her sturdy, sensible shoes.

A special thanks to Sarah Ann Hall for motivating me to write again.

Word count: 100

…and Your Little Dog, Too

We heard her before we saw her, heavy black shoes on the linoleum tapped out a warning: teacher’s coming…teacher’s coming…

We scrabbled back to our seats, barely concealing our deviousness. Nothing was lost on her. In one gaze, she assessed the situation.

“Erin, do you want to explain this?” Her look said ‘You are my chosen victim’.

My voice trembled. “We were just…” then I faltered, caught.

“Just is superfluous. You either were or you weren’t. Which is it?” She already knew.

Hanging my head, I spilled it all.

Clapping erasers that afternoon, I knew I’d catch hell at home.

To see other stories, please visit the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields site here.
© Erin Leary

10 thoughts on “Friday Flash Fiction

  1. What a wonderful piece, Erin, and an excellent tribute to fine teachers everywhere.

    Rochelle is right (don’t tell her I said so), the teacher would catch hell today. That’s a real tragedy for education.

  2. Different country, different language, but that teacher seems familiar nonetheless. I had to look up clapping erasers, that wasn’t something we were punished with as kids.

  3. Lovely to see you here. Well done – apologies for slow commenting by return.
    I could hear those footsteps approaching, instilling dread. You have the voices perfect – and teacher has a good point for us writers too – I often over-use just.

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