that Mrs. White was indeed alive. Sparks, which
were once dead, ran through my reserved
spirit. But I felt a stinging pain when it followed
that Mrs. White is in the hospital and wouldn’t
recognize anybody. She was suffering from
Alzheimer’s.
I skidded to a stop at the corner. I peeked
through the glass wall to spot my desired cake.
Memories started to rush into my brain. Tears
rolled down my cheeks and burned the places
where they passed. In the rain, I just stood there
in front of the bakery. In total silence, I felt my
soul wailing for my teacher, my hero.
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