you are the worst girl in Standard Three

by racheyrachey

I started writing again in Bill’s Thursday afternoon writing group here at Esalen. Will post the most well received pieces. They are just rough. Not sure what it’s all about.  am interested in feedback if you have any. Thanks – Rach.

“You are the worst girl in Standard Three”.

She pointed her finger and stared through her thick glasses, a string hanging off them so she could dangle them from her wrinkly old neck.

Pink face growing more and more flushed

Lipstick a little off the sides of her actual lips

And permed hair.

I’m guessing it was a perm.  I was 8 and not yet fully trained to spot them.

Mrs Hewitt they called her.

I flooded fast with shame and humiliation and horror. Ran away. Out. Into the playground.

Concrete squares with paint on them.

Four Square.

Hopscotch.

A long, wind-ey snake.

Old, chipped benches painted primary school yellow and green.

I ran across the squares and the snake to a place behind some trees where I could blubber.

When the sobs and snot finally subsided I opened my hand to study the thing that was a key part in the cause of such an insult.

An old tarnished metal case

Very small

With a little hinge

And a window made of magnifying glass

Stretching and enlarging the words

“WORLD’S SMALLEST DICTIONARY”

I opened it up.

It was magnificent.

It’s tiny pages trimmed with gold

and miniature definitions of “sarcophagus” and “fart”.

That’s the one we looked up first always - “Fart”.

And the definition I still remember - “a small explosion between the legs”.

We had been asked to present a book review and this was the most interesting book I had seen in ages.

Advertisement