How Not to Copy Homework

~ Another day in Lia’s class. Ms. Lia was 45, unmarried, and the strictest teacher in the foreign language or English lang department. Each day in that seat against the wall, far from friends or windows, was a trial.
“I don’t believe you have the intellect…” she began while looking over my copy of last night’s homework, for the record I did’nt. “This syntax is much too complex and the vocabulary, o the indignation of a new cheater born!”
She taught Spanish, and wished she could have taught French, the language english speaks to show off.

Stand up, stand up right here. en frente de la pizarra and ENUNCIATE each word, ENUNCIATE each syllabel you fool.

I looked puzzled and out of place. Each desk and each row of desks and each dead face of those crushed souls there sitting, frazzeled my hair, overheated my body, made my blood-shot eyes water. I struggeled to clear my throat, to even my gait and be confident. I lifted that paper high up, looked over my false and stolen answers, then I began to read…

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