Nobody read anymore. He didn't even read that much. But he needed the 2400 bucks for the class.
Cindy. What do you think Falkner meant by this story
The girl with multiple piercings shrugged.
I have no idea.
Ok Help her out Cindy
I dunno. Seems like some kind of psycho lady who never came out of her houst to me.
John smiled.
Help her out Jerry.
Jerry was tatted up and usually just slouched in his desk.
Well. Alright so this lady. Like she and her old man are getting it on and then like this other dude comes along and gets all salty with her and then she like dies and nobody sees her and then they like find a skeleton with a gray hair next to it and like nobody knows what it means but then they figure out she has been laying with this skeleton for like twenty years or some shit.
Psycho is what I say.
John turned to Angie who had never said much in class. He thougth this might be a teachable moment. Why don't you tell us some Angie
You don't want to hear what I think.
John laughed. It was an old privates school from 1866 and the walls at times seemed to be coming in on him. He should have been famous by now but he was teaching eighteen year olds literature that nobody read anymore. Still, he had to try.
Sure I do. We all want to hear what you think.
Angie stared down her hat on backwards and shrugged.
I think its like this. This is just a story of some psych bitch. Nothing more and nothing less. Like a painting is just a painting and a movie is just a movie and a story is just a story. All this shit about what it means is just a bunch of shit to fill time and make it so people can have classes and shit. Who cares what some dude thinks the story means.
John knew what he should say. He should defend literature. He had read all of these at one time and looked up to these authors. He had admired these carefully chiseled stories. But now he wasn't sure.
I think you're probably right Angela he said slowly.
The class was silent. Jerrry raised his hand.
Ah Mr. Hollins.
Yes Jerry.
Yo. So if like what Angie says is right. Then what the fuck are we sitting here for?
John paused then looked at the student who was paying thirty thousand in tuition.
Twenty four hundred bucks.
www.williamhazelgrove.com
Cindy. What do you think Falkner meant by this story
The girl with multiple piercings shrugged.
I have no idea.
Ok Help her out Cindy
I dunno. Seems like some kind of psycho lady who never came out of her houst to me.
John smiled.
Help her out Jerry.
Jerry was tatted up and usually just slouched in his desk.
Well. Alright so this lady. Like she and her old man are getting it on and then like this other dude comes along and gets all salty with her and then she like dies and nobody sees her and then they like find a skeleton with a gray hair next to it and like nobody knows what it means but then they figure out she has been laying with this skeleton for like twenty years or some shit.
Psycho is what I say.
John turned to Angie who had never said much in class. He thougth this might be a teachable moment. Why don't you tell us some Angie
You don't want to hear what I think.
John laughed. It was an old privates school from 1866 and the walls at times seemed to be coming in on him. He should have been famous by now but he was teaching eighteen year olds literature that nobody read anymore. Still, he had to try.
Sure I do. We all want to hear what you think.
Angie stared down her hat on backwards and shrugged.
I think its like this. This is just a story of some psych bitch. Nothing more and nothing less. Like a painting is just a painting and a movie is just a movie and a story is just a story. All this shit about what it means is just a bunch of shit to fill time and make it so people can have classes and shit. Who cares what some dude thinks the story means.
John knew what he should say. He should defend literature. He had read all of these at one time and looked up to these authors. He had admired these carefully chiseled stories. But now he wasn't sure.
I think you're probably right Angela he said slowly.
The class was silent. Jerrry raised his hand.
Ah Mr. Hollins.
Yes Jerry.
Yo. So if like what Angie says is right. Then what the fuck are we sitting here for?
John paused then looked at the student who was paying thirty thousand in tuition.
Twenty four hundred bucks.
www.williamhazelgrove.com
No comments:
Post a Comment