People in Montana keep quick access to
cold weather clothing until mid June.
Middle school students, however, are peculiar beasts.
Shorts come out during April snowstorms.
Thermometers hover around the thirty degree
mark, and coats mysteriously disappear.
With flip flopped feet Brittany and her crew bounce
down the hall. “Look Mrs. Warren, we’re gonna see
how red our feet get at lunch today.” Giggles burst
from the group. I counter, “It is difficult to walk with
a bounce in your step without toes for balance. If your
toes begin to turn black, be sure to find an adult and
come back inside.” On their way out one of the girls
looks back at me. She grabs Brittany’s shoulder and
says, “Is she for real?” Brittany says, “Didn’t you know?
Mrs. Warren is a CIA operative from the planet ZH8.”
Her voice gets louder and she looks back at me,
“She thinks aliens can impart knowledge through some
kind of astral transmission.” I raise both arms toward
the girls and wiggle my fingers. They scream and exit
the building, leaving a lone pink flip flop in the middle
of the hall.