Glenn G. Coats
Prospect, Virginia, USA
I cannot remember the splash of a fish at dusk, or the way a falling star scratches the darkness. I cannot recall the green colors of pines that change quickly in the light. These things are gone in an instant.
I do not remember all of the details. It is either spring or autumn since we are not wearing heavy coats. The fire alarm has gone off and we parade in straight lines out two pairs of doors where we form lines with our teachers on the grass. I am near the end of the line, only teacher and Billy are following me. It is when I step out of the second set of doors that I glance behind.
I see my teacher slap Billy down and then just as quickly pick him up by the shirt. It is just a flash like a gust of wind. Was Billy talking too much? Did he sass her back? I know she saw my eyes. Does she see them still?
on the bottom
the blur of rocks