Today’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Had a lot of fun with this prompt.
This week’s photo prompt is provided by Pixabay.com
Jefferson High was an ordinary high school in Falkirk, Missouri. It held about 2500 students, had generally positive test scores, and an acceptable college admittance rate. Its students were ordinary students. They gossiped in the hall; they sent secret texts to one another under the desks, and dated as if they knew what forever really was.
Fifth Period Chemistry was an ordinary science class. There was a haphazard array of vials stacked in an distant corner of the class like kitchen spices of a person that pretends to cook between ordering take-out Chinese the other six nights a week. The walls of the class were lined with charts and diagrams. The solar system; the periodic table. Lots of laminated posters that nobody really looked at unless they were trying to find something to focus on without feeling guilty about ignoring class. Even the students were frozen in a tableau of glassy eyed stares that you’d find on the dead.
The only exception to this very ordinary class with ordinary students in an ordinary school was Dr. Patella.
She actually was dead.