On/Off_Principled Lessons_The End before the Beginning_Cut the Cord
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On/Off
On the last day of third grade, the street light over the bus stop flickered. Even if I could have climbed up two stories to tap it, that old wooden light pole would have riddled my hands and thighs with splinters. A pack of Sweet Tarts later, the light turned on in full force, but I could have counted to ten before it turned off. Then, it resumed flickering with a buzz and a crackle, a sizzle and hum. The morning air began to smell like it does after it rains, but more electric, tasting like when you put your mouth on an iron bar on the playground, juwww.onedoor.ccst before your mom pops you upside the hea...
Principled Lessons
“When was the last time Adrian came to school?” “It’s been about a week.” “For seven days you took attendance and never noticed your student was missing. Does that sum it up?” “I wouldn’t say it’s that simple, I have a class of 32 students and this just got away from me. If I -” “That's bullshit, another teacher contacted me about your missing student. This didn’t get away from you, it was carelessness. You’re coming with me.” Hadiza Wilson rushed to the school exit with 3rd grade teacher Mr. John Alexander in tow. As the principal of Lawrence Mills Elementary School, Hadiza understood the imp...
The End before the Beginning
The solitary lightbulb set into the ceiling of the small bunker flickers, threatening to cast us into complete darkness. The glinting causes the shadows cast across the cement walls to dance, the sight perhaps more chilling than darkness itself—at least in the dark you don’t see as death creeps up on you.Even after the decades of nuclear weapons looming over us like death itself—ever menacing, ever drawing nearer, but rarely paid heed to. Even after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, after the Cold War, after Yeltsin, after the Eastern conflict…still, no one saw it coming. In hindsight, it was as inevita...
Cut the Cord
The only light is a silver gleam at the bottom of the closet door. Otherwise, there is only blackness, deep and dark as the interior of a mountain cave. I hide in the closet because the monster is not in the closet nor is it under the bed. It is sitting on the edge of my bed humming a tuneless melody that worms it way into into my head. If I could open the door, I would see my laptop stuffed in the trashcan that sits by my desk. If I could get to the laptop, I could wire for help. That is if she has not figured out how to block all my communications. That is all communications except ones to ...