All Teachers are Monsters.

Thank you Linda for this opportunity. The prompt word is ‘post’ to be used alone or as part of a word. Press RIGHT HERE to join in or read some great responses.

“Post my letter” Mother called after me. Stamping my feet with slumped shoulders I went back in the kitchen. “Give it me then, quick! you know I hate being late.” I snatched it from her hand and slammed the door. I lifted my arm pushed back the sleeve, my trusty Timex startled me.”Rob, can I bag a leg on your crossbar?” I yelled. He was a bit fly was Rob but with my prim plait, flat chest and tough shoes he was hardly seeing me as a girl; one of the lads that’s me. I closed my eyes and hung on as he weaved through the traffic; my lady parts bruised with each bump. Rob stuck the vee’s up to Mr.Light the Maths teacher as he passed in a rusted Vauxhall Viva. Embarrassed I try to hide my face in Rob’s back. So relieved I was to jump off; in front of the corner shop … Not quite like in the movies.

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Rob ruffled my crooked fringe, “Maths homework … you owe me.” He called as I hobbled away tidying my fringe. Waving as he wheelied off, I rub my shoe on the back of my sock to try to rid it of oil. Letter posted and Parma violets purchased I made it to class in good time. At lunch break, I would go to the phone box to phone Mum, make amends for being grumpy; I wasn’t late after all.

Mr. Wright called me over. “Cheshire,” He called. “That lad, he is a little rough … around the edges.” He stumbled his words awkwardly, “your parents, they would be displeased at you … marauding around on his crossbar. Take heed, he will end up in Borstal if he’s not careful.”

I knew he was right, they would give me chores for a month if they knew. “Sorry Sir, I didn’t want to be late.” My cheeks and neck grew warm and I just know I was scarlet. He gave me double homework and tapped the side of his nose as he handed it over. That was all I needed what with Robs lot and now this I’d be at it for hours. I sighed, pushed it into my bag and thanked him. Because good girls do not answer back, ride on crossbar’s with reprobates, and expect leniency from the teacher who received the Vee sign.

Mother, wearing her furious face; stood cross armed at the door. “To your room young lady, post-haste!” I should have guessed he would tell; all teachers are monsters but none more than Mr.Right.

Did you do something foolish that bit you back? Do tell I am waiting with Bated breath.

P.S. I love and respect teachers, this is a work of fiction, or as Mother would say damn lies. *gulp*