Please note this is fiction!

My mother has always said I was born in the wrong century, that I should’ve been born in the 1920’s, rather than the 2020’s. For one thing, I have the hairdo and clothes to prove it and I’ve been told I would look good as a flapper or maybe I’m just a bit delusional.

Standing by the window in my classroom, I take a drag of my electronic cigarette. I do wish I could go back to my beloved old-fashioned cigarettes. Electronic cigarettes are no comparison to the real thing. I know, old habits die hard but I guess it’s a good compromise since I can smoke my e-cigarettes and technically not violate the school’s no-smoking rule. Not that I’ve asked.

Graduated with a Masters in English at the tender age of twenty-one, I decided to return to my hometown. There’s something romantic in the notion of returning to one’s point of origin after spending time away searching for destiny.

It wasn’t my dream to become a severely underpaid English teacher to a lot of 17 and 18-years-olds who think it’s in their right to have something – whether it be a person or a physical object – but what can one do with an English degree?

I turn my watch toward me to check the time. Another 20 minutes and the next bunch will file into the quiet space of my classroom. I wonder how many of them are here to learn and how many are merely trying to get through the next four months.

Theme: A Day in School

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