Inner Workings of a Woman
To You, thank you… for everything…. me Sittingthere at her desk, her long auburn hair flowing over her shoulders. Her hand holding up her head, her green eyes glaze over behind the brown metal frame of her glasses. Her chest heaving when she sighs. In her right hand, her red marking pen falls to the desk, breaking the silence of her class. Her full red lips curl into a knowing smile as she straightens her back, picks up her pen and resumes marking. Scribbling the teacher’s age-old response of...