Hera cupped her cheeks as Ms. Reyes, their Creative Fiction teacher, drowned them with the ingredients for a perfect story. They’ve been discussing it for days but, aside from feeling bored and stupid, she learned nothing. She understood a pinch of what she was saying, though; however, more than that was just wishful thinking. Yawning, Hera directed her gaze outside the window. With her peripheral vision, she was aware Ms. Reyes wouldn’t be able to notice her spacing out. After all, she was a small woman, even by the standard of a twelfth-grade student. This and the fact that most of her classmates were sitting in front of her, vacating the four chairs beside her, concealed her from her teacher’s range of vision. Assured she’d never be reprimanded, she poured all her attention to the field just outside their room. She brushed the strands of her hair off her face to have a good look at the Narra Tree sitting in the center, its branches dancing with the wind, its leave
Last Updated : 2021-06-21 Read more