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DIR Return to: Armah-Hutchinson -- High School Humanities
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#Post#: 111--------------------------------------------------
Four Letter Word
DIR By: StoryGod
Date: January 6, 2020, 8:59 am
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There was a reason school work got Marion through the day. For
English, the assignment was writing a descriptive paragraph.
Sitting at her laptop, Wednesday night, Marion pounded out.
[Quote]
She was a world to herself, and she was a four letter word, one
letter shy of mild profanity. She measured 37 meters (About two
hundred and twenty feet) in length and was a good twelve meters
(37 feet) across. She was sheathed in white composite, and the
captain, or rather the crew he hired, kept her spotlessly clean.
From the sky deck which housed the cabin, wheel, and control
panel, one could imagine that one saw the earth, though of
course most of the world was beyond what anyone could see even
with a spyglass It took radio and GPS to reach the outside. From
the bedroom below decks, one could curl up and imagine one was
at home.
[/Quote]
"Wow," thought Marion. "That feels cathartic."
Marion glanced around the room. This afternoon she would have to
email every Suite Advisor and see if they would accept a
recycling bin. She would only have to deliver the recycling bins
to Ferrante-Walker, the ninth grade high rise, but it would be a
lot of bins, that is if the township of Greenburgh supplied
them. Another student was writing away for the bins. There were
also going to be posters, because Activity Awareness Week was
coming and there was a prize of funding for the best posters.
Marion wondered if she had a conflict of interest. Also,
academics did not let up.
Marion wondered what was happening with Zia and Junior
Achievement. She'd been a curse of a roommate the night before.
She felt bad about that now. "Alright let's see your praagraphs
on the screen," called out Mr. Cardozo, the English teacher.
Marion checked the class monitoring software and set it to give
permission for her work to be shown, but a plump boy who wanted
to be a physician got to go first. The boy was her shadow in
every class except electives. His paragraph about being left at
science camp at age twelve was good because it evoked loneliness
through physical description. Marion said as much. A girl was
skeptical that a dead college campus in summer could provide
this much emotion. Marion, remembered STEM camp after sixth
grade as fun more than anything else, but it had been daycamp
and Shaunna had been home waiting while her parents were off
having fun, because why shouldn't they have fun. Yes, that was
a rhetorical question.
Zia went next.
[Quote]
In the United States they use four words to describe this food,
but in Kenya and many other places they are called mealies. The
smell of mealies hits you before you even see them. It is sweet
grain roasting on hot coals, charcoal, or wood, and even if you
have eaten, the smell asks: "Are you hungry?" The answer is
nearly always yes. They can be long and thin with tiny kernels.
They are usually golden yellow, but they can be pale primrose,
or translucent white. They can be plump and squat with kernels
like pearls and yellow, white, pink, or golden. They nearly
always have black tiger stripes or spots, scars of the battle
they lost honorably to the vendor's fire.
[/Quote]
"Can anyone guess Zia's four words?" Mr. Cardozo asked.
Marion's hand shot into the air. "Corn on the cob."
Zia smiled.
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