By John M. Carlson
Colin sits in the fifth grade classroom. It was like a foreign land three months ago. Now it is his for nine months. Nine very long months.
He wears brand new clothes. They are nice, but he would rather be at the outdoor pool right now, wearing his worn, faded swimsuit.
His teacher gives out books. A book full of hard math problems. A book of endless spelling words. A reading book full of boring stories. He would rather sit under a tree and read a Hardy Boys book.
He looks out the window. He wishes it were still summer vacation.
I can feel Colin’s longing for the outdoors. Reminds me of myself at that age. Lovely piece of writing.
When I was a child 70 years or so ago, my teacher would see me staring out the window. “Stop daydreaming.” she would say. I don’t think she understood the art of time-traveling and astral projection. She did not understand that, as she spoke of distant places like Tibet, I was there… breathing the breath of great mountains, drinking glacial water, hearing the chants of the monks, and tying my prayers against the wind.
James, your comment is as concisely powerful and beautiful as any 101 Words entry!
Thank you, Eric. Just reminiscing. John’s piece was well written and he achieved what every writer wants, effective communication with another mind.
Evocative and lovely – thank you, John!
I happen to know John and was aware of his wonderful photographic memory,but now I know what a wonderful painter he is.He paints with words.
I totally related to the boy who looked out the window and wanted to be anywhere but school.
When I went to school,it was dry facts and I had no clue how they relayed to my life.
If only my teachers had first taught me to love to learn.
I may have done better in school.
Because of that I became a bus driver instead of an astro- physicist!