Mute

I always try to get to class early to get work done and not to be rushed.  This morning this cute guy asked if he could sit with me... I guess there weren't any empty tables around.  But there was pretty much no contact made  (no introduction, what class are you taking, etc.) as he went straight to his textbook and I continued tumblring on my iPad (don't judge).  I had to get to class and managed to say "have a good day" with a smile and eye contact at least......  I wonder if our generation really is at a loss.

Poetry doesn't have to rhyme

At the after-school program where I volunteer, the kids often start out the day with a poetry exercise.  This one kid, who can't be more than 11 or so, has crazy rhyming and vocabulary skills and a sense of flow well beyond his years.  He could be on his way to being an amazing spoken word artist; all it takes is encouragement.  Instead of doing his homework, he spends his time engrossed in a story about a kid trying to save his best friend from galactic forces.  I'd say that's a good use of time.

Another boy (like most of the others who just write about their daily habits) wrote about his parents being sad.  One girl is too shy to show her work and writes in her notebook underneath the table, but she'll still go up front to read it out loud if asked.

Words sometimes are the only proper way to show the world the crags and fissures of you.

Small Story #3 - Paperman



"Uhh - h-h-hi."
"Hello."  After a pause she murmured, "Are you okay?"
"I - I'm great, why?"
"You're kind of out of breath."
He gulped.  "I've been kind of all over the place today..."
Just when he'd sworn he would stop his dreaming, he'd been pulled right here just in time.  And so had she.
"We saw each other this morning, right?  Here, on the platform."
He nodded, not quite able to think straight.  But somehow his chest felt clear and weightless.
"This is yours, right?"  
In her grasp was the marked paper airplane that had drifted away from him so elusively.
"Where did you find that...?"
A small smile came across her lips.  "It just sort of flew right in front of me.  Do - do you need it back?"
Another gust of wind pushed him one step forward.  
"No, keep it.  If you want it, that is."