#12 (Part III)

#12 The Nature of Punishment (Part III)

     I lifted one hand to rub at my eyes.  This is how tired I was: the black of the word “Teach” blazed up at me from the white of the envelope.  I tore the envelope open.  A chipboard key slid out.  In a spidery scrawl the words, 'teach', 'trust' and 'communication' were recorded.  The reverse of the heavy cardboard cut out was printed an address I recognized, an address that made my heart sink.
     I did not want to go back there again.  I did not want to face the macabre students in the linen and cotton and coffee sack colors.  And though it was a different floor listed on the chipboard key, it might as well have been labeled Morgue.  For that was how I suddenly felt: surrounded by hopeless death.

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