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The Master Plan
Jul. 11th, 2007 08:06 amI watched the clock intently as the long arm ticked closer to the 3:00PM mark.
The bell usually rang at 3:15 but Ms. Walters, my second grade teacher would always stop class early.
One of us would get chosen to read from our favorite book for 15 precious minutes while the rest of class looked bored enough to die right then and there. I recall Sheila reading aloud from "Where the Wild Things are" and a kid named Earl brazenly reading from his older brother's "Mad magazine" until it was quickly confiscated.
The day it was my turn I brought my copy of Alice in Wonderland that was disintegrating from wear. Ms. Walters was thrilled at my choice and said that once everyone in class had their day to read, that I could continue every day after reading a little bit from that book. She confided to me it was her favorite.
After I got entirely through with Alice, Ms. Walters lent me her threadbare copy of "Through the Looking Glass" to read that aloud to a sullen crowd of seven year olds at Jim Cherry Elementary.
As I read through chapter eleven a weird little seed was planted and my obsession started as simply as that.
Every night I went to sleep dreaming of a large garden; an exotically beautiful place with a creepy undertow. It would be something mysterious that would belong entirely to me and keep me safe from precarious outside forces over which I had no control.
I would of course require a very very large chessboard, just like in the book.
( Read more... )
The bell usually rang at 3:15 but Ms. Walters, my second grade teacher would always stop class early.
One of us would get chosen to read from our favorite book for 15 precious minutes while the rest of class looked bored enough to die right then and there. I recall Sheila reading aloud from "Where the Wild Things are" and a kid named Earl brazenly reading from his older brother's "Mad magazine" until it was quickly confiscated.
The day it was my turn I brought my copy of Alice in Wonderland that was disintegrating from wear. Ms. Walters was thrilled at my choice and said that once everyone in class had their day to read, that I could continue every day after reading a little bit from that book. She confided to me it was her favorite.
After I got entirely through with Alice, Ms. Walters lent me her threadbare copy of "Through the Looking Glass" to read that aloud to a sullen crowd of seven year olds at Jim Cherry Elementary.
As I read through chapter eleven a weird little seed was planted and my obsession started as simply as that.
Every night I went to sleep dreaming of a large garden; an exotically beautiful place with a creepy undertow. It would be something mysterious that would belong entirely to me and keep me safe from precarious outside forces over which I had no control.
I would of course require a very very large chessboard, just like in the book.
( Read more... )
