We discussed Poe that morning.

Olivia said: “Ravens are a symbol of bad luck.”

Kyle snorted. I thought nothing; he had a crush on Olivia, which he’d told me once in confidence.

I supervised cafeteria that day. Sitting in an uncomfortable orange chair, eating a Fuji apple, I read “We Need to Talk About Kevin,” which I felt forced to read despite it being epistolary and grim. I leaned back, enjoying the burst of apple juice and watched the dynamics unfolding around me. I wasn’t much older than these teens yet felt decades.

Then Kyle appeared with a gun.


end (99 words)

Sascha Darlington



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