Lands of the Mists

It is about ten minutes until school gets out for the weekend; however, ten minutes in Mrs. Kline’s math class can feel like an eternity. You can’t help but day dream away the complex numbers and equations Mrs. Kline continually throws at the class. Your mind often drifts away from this boring smalltown life that has become your fate, and whatever thought it lands on is always a welcome change from the boredom in which you exist.

“Jay Masterson, would be so kind as to answer problem nine in your book.”

You are quickly jolted awake from your day dream. You stare blankly at the number in your math book, lacking the answer you immediately start to sweat as your face turns red. You let out a quick, “ I don’t know,” and continue to stare at your text book.

“Mr. Masterson, please pay attention to the class for once,” Mrs. Kline said.

Just then the bell rang out its soothing tone.

“Okay, now you all have a good weekend and don’t forget to study for the chapter test on Monday, Jay would you please stay for a minute,” Mrs. Kline said, giving me an upset look.

After all the students have left the class, you walk over to Mrs. Kline's desk, who was finishing some last minute math work. You take this time to examine Mrs. Kline from your position. Mrs. Kline, not too bad to look at for a 42 year old, though she always wears puffy sweaters, so it is very hard to know anything about her figure other then her face, which is masked by glasses, and her legs. Ah her legs, covered by the desk now but she usually wears those skirts that bring office ladys to mind, her legs alone are almost enough to make you pay more attention in class, almost. Her hair is shoulder length and very red, not a bad look. After a few minutes Mrs. Kline finally begins to give you her lecture on your declining grades and apparent lack of quality work in her class.

“I wish that you would try a little harder, with your math, it is ridiculous how terrible your grades have become. I have talked to your mother, and I have decided to meet with her at your house tonight so we all can talk about your grades. I am very concerned that if your grades don't improve you will never be able to get through high school… okay you can go now and I will see you at your house tonight,” Mrs. Kline said in conclusion.

If you didn't have a slight crush on her, you might tell off Mrs. Kline, but in the end you just turn and leave. You quickly get out the door , exit the school, and start on your long miserable walk through suburbia.