Tap Tap

With my gradebook in hand, I meander between the short desks, checking on my grid as students show me that they brought their homework. I finish and proceed to my desk, bending over to input my class’s attendance on my computer.

I feel a tap tap on my arm.

“One second,” I say.

Tap tap. “Mrs. Reed?”

“I’m almost finished.” I mark the absent kids and send the report, thankful that for once, the attendance secretary won’t have to call my room looking for it.

Tap tap. “Mrs. Reed?”

“What?!” I turn, seeing Anna’s rosy cheeks just before she vanishes.

My eyes dart open and take in the morning light barely penetrating my room around the shade. I’m still not used to waking up after the sun.

Sitting up, the images from my dream roll in my brain, reminding me that while I can’t be there, my heart still is.

I wish I could go back and give Anna a hug.

This story was inspired by a prompt over at Carrot Ranch, only I must have pondered on it too long because I realized it was actually two prompts ago.

Funny how an upended schedule makes you lose all sense of time.

I decided to write my story anyway, though I didn’t stick to CR’s 99-word rule, since I missed the deadline. I just wanted to write from my heart. And while on quarantine, my heart struggles. I’m an educator without purpose. Because I’m a small-group reading interventionist, I don’t even have the ability to work with my kiddos remotely.

I know the virus will someday leave us and we’ll get back to some semblance of normal. For now, I grieve the present.