Five O’Clock Somewhere

Yesterday I stood in class less than one hour after one of my best friends left Sanniquellie forever.  I felt numb and lost.  But as I scrawled binomials on the board I heard a calm authoritative voice.  “That can’t be me,” I shook my head.  But of course it was.  Some part of me was still grounded, functioning, and strong.

An hour later I watched Krista tell 11^th grade she was leaving.  Beer after school never tasted so good.