Under desks, grit grinds into bare knees. The teacher whispers, this is practice, remember. Somebody’s phone vibrates, a familiar hymn. In the darkness, Jamir passes a cough drop to a crying first grader, palm to palm like communion. After, in the light, nobody mentions it. We line up, unbelievably gentle.
Brandon McNeice is a Philadelphia-based writer and educator. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in SmokeLong Quarterly, Plough, Front Porch Republic, Beyond Words, The Rush Magazine, and Flash Frog.
Brandon, I’ve seen a number of writers attempt to tackle, unsuccessfully, such issues. Your effort, however, is frighteningly successful. The realism is nerve shattering. The tenderness of tone makes is doubly so.
That is sadly beautiful. Wow. What a big story to tackle — successfully — in so few words.