Snow Day – Wayne Dean-Richards

Snidge Scrumpin

My granddad once told me about a teacher who wore glasses with little mirrors attached to the frames so he could see behind him: as if he really did have eyes in the back of his head!  

When he saw, reflected, one of the kids in his class messing about, he grabbed whatever was closest – usually the blackboard rubber or a stick of chalk – and threw it at the miscreant: whack! 

Perhaps that story sowed the seeds in me: certainly I didn’t think of teachers as human beings who liked to play in the snow!  

It was why I was surprised when Mr Cannon told me to open all the windows in the mobile classroom. 

The school heating system had conked out that day, and if it was below a certain temperature everyone had to be sent home. 

It was early January and there was a foot of snow on the ground.  

A class…

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Author: rmfrancis

R. M. Francis is a poet from the Black Country. Author of Transitions (Black Light Engine Room, 2015) and Orpheus (Lapwing Publications, 2016). He's currently researching his PhD at the University of Wolverhampton

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