Today, I heard the news that one of my favorite teachers died. I could have accepted it better if it was a natural death but I heard it was not.
He was robbed and killed. Shot. In. The. Mouth.
He was an old man. Excited for his long awaited retirement. He wanted to go to places. And now he can’t.
He was strict but fun. He made us recite this poem he made everyday. But it’s not the boring kind of recitation. He likes to twist it around. He was a jolly old man.
He believed in our potential. He taught us a lot of words. And it was fun.