writing

Sweet Revenge

She rolls it across the desk. Back and forth in-between her wrinkled hands.

Detention, the only class Mrs. Smith seems to teach and the only class I seem to be taking.

I hate her.

I imagine taking a great sword, cutting her down like a prince would an evil dragon. But violence never solved anything and my parents would slay me if I got expelled, again.

She stands up, walking to the hall to say goodbye to a few teachers leaving.

It’s my time, my moment.

I jump up, head to the desk and lick the apple.

Take that Granny!

Copyright © 2019 by Elly. V All rights reserved. This story and any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s