I’m in fourth grade, and I don’t care that Literature is over. It’s a large picture storybook. Medieval, with dragons and castles and knights. I’m almost done, and I’m going to finish it.
I lean the book on my lap while I open the clam-top desk and take out my math workbook. Sister Kathleen bleats on and on about blah-blah-blah. I look up enough, so I look like I’m paying attention.
But my eyes are on that story until the end.
Did she notice? Maybe she took pity on me? I’ll never know.
I only know that I finished it!
handprints on the window adding problems way too late
more by FRANK J. TASSONE