Dressed head to toe in black, Mark trudged through the 3am woods, his immaculate hearing and keen eyesight warning him of every tree, every branch, every thorn in his way. The bag of wooden stakes, thrown delicately over his shoulder, was light and bobbed against his ass as he walked. He could smell the frost in the air and inhaled it deeply, filling his lungs with its bitterness and invigorating himself as he thought of the morning ahead.
Passing the little, broken shack, where Bertha Shears still rested miserably, he snorted a clod of snot into his throat and wondered if Eli Manning would be ready for the Giants' next game. A quarter of visualized football later, he crossed over the spot where he'd left Phil Wii's remains; the area was empty but for the retarded boy's final echoing cries, which only he could hear and enjoy. He walked on, snapping his elbows out in front of him - ah, there was nothing like the feeling of loosening those joints of his, as if he'd been reborn, his bones re-formed and stronger than ever, locking out of, then back into place so he could snap them out again five minutes later.
When he arrived at the giant tree, he dropped his sack and pulled a small shovel from it. Ten paces away, he cleared the leaves to one side and began to dig, his well-adjusted eyes measuring the hole's circumference and depth with each shovelful of hard dirt. Finally hitting the perfect depth - the hole covered the entire lower half of his body - he made his way back to the foot of the tree and grabbed his bag. One by one, he extracted the stakes and hammered them into the hole's bottom with his shovel until the points were just under the hole's rim. He grabbed the fine mosquito netting from the sack, laid it across the top of the whole, then covered the net with the leaves he'd earlier discarded.
Finished, he swung the bag over his shoulder again and sat on the other side of the tree. And waited.
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5 comments:
I'll echo Admiral Ackbar from The Return of the Jedi: It's a trap!
-Ranny Diley
Ah hah, I get it, it's a comment on Barak Obamas first few months as president. Good one dawg. John McCain
ASS-ASS-ins love getting it from behind.
Instead of trying to oppress the technology, they should spend more time professionally educating teachers how to better utilize the immense possibilities. It's like this school district is squeezing sand in their hands. The tighter they close their grip, the more that is going to leak out.
BTW, is this constitutional? I mean can a district actually enforce what a teacher does outside of their scheduled business day? And are they so paranoid about the internet that they think all social networking leads to sex?
Just goes to show how people fear what they do not understand.
When you are a teacher, sometimes you get worn out.
I mean WORN OUT. It's inevitable. That's why I endorse caffeine. After all, when you teach teens, they have hormones, sugar and youth on their side. Caffeine is the great equalizer. It allows me to hit another gear when I ordinarily would not have another gear in me but oh-so-desperately need it.
You can take away my paper supply, you can take away my access to resources, you can take away the electricity, pencils and even my chair -- I'll be just fine. But take away my caffeine and the game is over.
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