The old man looked tired. He was just putting his books in his battered messenger bag. The day had been long. Why were today's students so annoying ? In his time, he had been paying attention to what the teacher said, not texting all the time, or surfing on the internet during the lesson. These youngsters had no respect. It was getting harder everyday. He wanted out.
He organised his books by size in his bag. He then tidied up the desk, rearranging the pencils in their pot, putting the paper sheets in the top drawer, his registry in the middle one. He proceeded to lock the desk with a little key : one is never too cautious.
He put on his old brown jacket, adjusted his hat on his white hair. It was raining again. He took his umbrella behind the door. Exiting his office, he looked a last time to check everything was in place. He locked the door and reached the courtyard.
The tired Vauxhall Astra had trouble starting : it was too wet. At last, he was in the street. He really looked forward to getting back home.
Moments later, having avoided the traffic on the main road by taking a shortcut, he was on his doorstep. His flat was small and quite messy : books piling up on each side of the sofa, washing up not made in the sink, clothes in heap by the washing machine... No time for that right now ! He was nearly late...
He switched on his computer, logged into Skype and started waiting for the call.
In the meantime, opening the fridge he reached for the cheese, a tomato and an apple : that would have to do. He grabbed some bread too, and hurried up eating, standing by the sink, drinking in an old glass...
The computer was beeping now : the call !
He hurried toward the sofa, grabbed the laptop and clicked on answer. She was there, in front of him, beautiful and smiling. He felt relaxed, happy. His daughter was so far, and so close. He felt blessed. It was the best time of the day !
He organised his books by size in his bag. He then tidied up the desk, rearranging the pencils in their pot, putting the paper sheets in the top drawer, his registry in the middle one. He proceeded to lock the desk with a little key : one is never too cautious.
He put on his old brown jacket, adjusted his hat on his white hair. It was raining again. He took his umbrella behind the door. Exiting his office, he looked a last time to check everything was in place. He locked the door and reached the courtyard.
The tired Vauxhall Astra had trouble starting : it was too wet. At last, he was in the street. He really looked forward to getting back home.
Moments later, having avoided the traffic on the main road by taking a shortcut, he was on his doorstep. His flat was small and quite messy : books piling up on each side of the sofa, washing up not made in the sink, clothes in heap by the washing machine... No time for that right now ! He was nearly late...
He switched on his computer, logged into Skype and started waiting for the call.
In the meantime, opening the fridge he reached for the cheese, a tomato and an apple : that would have to do. He grabbed some bread too, and hurried up eating, standing by the sink, drinking in an old glass...
The computer was beeping now : the call !
He hurried toward the sofa, grabbed the laptop and clicked on answer. She was there, in front of him, beautiful and smiling. He felt relaxed, happy. His daughter was so far, and so close. He felt blessed. It was the best time of the day !
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