Prompt 12: Write a brief but scary encounter with one of your old professors.

I was sitting alone in the dining room after all the dishes had been cleared away. It’s a nice time of day because everyone is fed and happy and things are pretty quiet at the nursing home. I had just finished filling out a paper when I heard someone say my name.

“Amy, is that you?”

“Oh my goodness,” I exclaimed. I couldn’t believe it, it was my first grade teacher. She had aged so much, not at all like I remembered her, but I guess I had changed as well.

“How are you?” she asked in her leathery grandma like voice.

“I’m ok. I have three kids now. How are you?”

“Not so great. My husband has cancer.”

My face fell. What can you say to that? “I’m sorry to hear that.”

After a brief “catching up” conversation, she looked at me and as serious as ever says, “My, you have gotten fat since I last saw you.”

Why do little old ladies get away with saying whatever they want?


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