Old Man Flannery


Third period history with Mr. Conroy had just ended and Ash was moving quickly down the hall attempting to dodge the students making their way to first lunch. “Ash!”, “Ash wait!”, someone called out from the throng. “Ashlan Valenteen Monnet, Stop! Wait for me, ok? Geez.” As Ash turned a tall slender girl with coal black hair and steely grey eyes made her way through the swiftly moving crowd. “Where’s the fire?” she said.

“Hey Arianne, didn’t see you, where you been?” Ash said quizzically.

“Around,” Arianne smirked in vague reply.

“Sounds interesting,” Ash stated with a raised eyebrow, “Care to elaborate?”

Arianne shrugged and flashed a mischievous grin “Meet me for lunch?” she said.

“Where else would I be Ari? I’ve got to go, okay? I’ve got to make it to Flannery’s class. If I’m late for English one more time that big blue vein that bulges out of his forehead is going to bust and cause a scene. Later.”

Arianne nodded as the girls separated and moved on in the direction of their prospective classes.

Lunch couldn’t come soon enough as far as Ash was concerned. For the third time this month old man Flannery was discussing the proper way to use MLA citation when quoting from books and periodicals. She’d have thought that her classmates would have picked up on it by now. Finding the topic tiresome she entertained herself by doodling her name on her notes while thinking of the dream she had the previous night.

For years she’d dreamt of him. Some nights she found herself wrapped within his arms comfortable and at peace or walking hand and hand along the tranquil shore. Other times she saw herself hungry for him; the thought of those passionate embraces and fiery kisses warmed her cheeks and she blushed in private embarrassment. Not all her dreams were so pleasant there were nights that they spent arguing, spitting venomous retorts at one another in pure hatred or worse yet wielding Highland Swords which cut through the air and crashed mercilessly into one another in a vicious attempt to force the other to yield.

She’d grown accustom to seeing him each night, but her dreams left her perplexed. Every time she saw him they would grow closer together or further apart. The ebb and flow of their relationship was maddening. To be plagued with such a vast array of emotions for someone she could never meet was ludicrous; he wasn’t even real.

“Ashlan! Hello! Epsilon to Miss Monnet,” boomed Mr. Flannery.

“Huh?” Ash said staring blankly into the face of her annoyed instructor.

“Wonderful. Now that we finally have your attention Miss Monnet, could you please come to the board and show us the correct way to cite a quotation out of Blair Holcomb’s essays on Neandarian Wild Life?”

Mortified, Ash slid her chair back and began to rise. “Oh, uh, yeah, I guess,” she said taking her book from the desk and stepping in the direction of the board.

Ring!

The bell for second lunch sounded. Ash turned, picked up her backpack, and swiped the rest of her books off the desk and into her arms.

“I guess that’s all the time we have for today class. Your essay on the Drexel Mountain Wolf is due first thing tomorrow. Come to class well prepared.” she heard Mr. Flannery saying as she hurried from the room in search of Arianne.

The End

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