“Ha! What you ever done fer me, eh?” I cry.
He towers over me. “You need to learn who runs this school.”
“You can’t tell me nuffink. I got rights!”
“Calm down and do some work.”
“I’m not scareda you,” I say.
I gotta quit teaching. Students isn’t like before.
Arthur Brown has been a teacher for a long time and hopes to be a non-teacher for longer. He loves to dabble in writing and finds the ‘snapshot’ aspect of the fifty-word format suits him.
He came to my childhood bedroom every night: silent, colourless, translucent, sad.
One night he was waving his arms, telling me to get out. Then he vanished.
I ran outside and hid in the woods.
That night my father, deeply disturbed, strangled my mother.
I never saw my saviour again.
After trying a lot of different jobs, Arthur Brown still has ambitions, but he’s not sure what they are.
The entire house was spotless. Door-tops: dustless. His own razor: hairless. Kitchen trashcan: almost trashless. He kicked it over; an empty, washed milk carton fell out.
They thought they’d beaten him. But he knew their filth was somewhere. Dirty vermin, his family.
When they returned, they’d pay for this mess.
Arthur Brown has been a teacher for a long time and hopes to be a non-teacher for longer.
I’m late for the lesson.
Old Crouch the Grouch smiles pleasantly. I sit down.
Why isn’t he screaming at me for being late? What’s all this coloured Plasticine for on the desks? Why’s that music playing? Why’s he wearing a suit? Why’s everyone working?
Then I notice her. Ofsted inspector.
Arthur Brown had a long career in teaching. He saw a lot of changes and never did really get used to them. He draws comfort from the fact that no-one else seemed to either.