Teacher’s Pet


Jimmy got to class and slid into his seat just as the bell rang. He wasn’t looking forward to this one but it was a requirement for his degree. A thick, heavy, yellow book sat on each desk. There were only two other students in room. One sat up front, near the teacher’s desk. She looked like a suck up, and Jimmy hated her already. The other sat by the back door. He was wearing a white tee shirt with a pack of camels rolled in the sleeve and black jeans. Sunglasses concealed his eyes. He might have been asleep.

As the instructor had not yet arrived Jimmy picked up the tome on his desk, Common DNA Markers Found in Rodent Urine and How to Recognize an Anomaly. He grimaced.

“Hey,” Jimmy called to the suck up at the front of the room, “I’ve lost my Sharpie. Do you have one I can borrow for a minute? I’ll give it right back.”

She glared at him but unzipped her pencil case and removed a black permanent marker. “Black OK?” she asked. “I only have black or pink.”

“Black’s cool.” He said and she extended her arm with the Sharpie clutched tightly in her fist.

Jimmy stood and walked up to the front of the room and over to her desk. After prying the Sharpie from her fingers he went back to his desk.

He uncapped the marker and in large block letters wrote along the top of his book cover:


He penned his name below that and recapped the Sharpie.

“Hey,” he called again, there was no response from the suck up so he threw it, cartwheeling, back in her direction. It struck her, end on, right behind her ear.

“Ow!” she exclaimed and she rubbed her head where she had been struck. She turned and shot daggers at Jimmy, from her eyes.

“Thanks,” he said and grinned.




The dimly lit warehouse was filled with the smoke of a thick silence
All eyes on the stage – waiting, eagerly anticipating
She could hear only her heart beat, setting the tempo
For what was to come.

Her drum sticks lifted above her head in synch with the rising intensity of the blue-white spotlight
When the light level was right she paused before bringing them down hard on her snare
Then straight into the roll as Mickey got the bass locked in and
Pete’s Strat began to cry.

The audience came to life
They replaced the oppressive quiet, that had been, with
Raucous cheering, clapping, and dancing – a
And hallucinogenic abetted good time for all.

A Tuesday morning response to another Monday Writing Prompt generously provided by The Secret Keeper.

%d bloggers like this: