|Current Residence: Pietermaritzburg|
English Anachronism"An anachronism,"English Anachronism by The-laws-of-Chance
she says, adjusting her skirt over her patchwork knees,
"is a conflict in the chronological order of things."
The irony almost makes me laugh.
I'm the schoolgirl here,
So why is it her white-clad calves
that slide into those black buckled Mary Janes so enticingly?
She taught them all to us,
littering the puny fallacies of our lives with petite droplets of eloquence.
Bits of her life come to me on indiscreet slips of iridescent paper.
"Rez, babe," they hiss,
the air stumbling down my throat like gravel at the nickname.
"Tu m'oubliez," she whispers into the classroom,
her raspberry voice commingling with the buzz of the projector fan.
This feels like a bad anime.
I'm going to be stuck sniffling at the end of the chalk-dust hallway,
tilting my head expectantly around the schoolroom door.
It will smell of pencil shavings and old books.
She will press a pen to her lips, in ponderous contemplation of some written work or another.