I wandered through the halls of Templeton Secondary during the intermission of Rain City Chronicle’s “Chalk and Lockers” story series. I thought about woodshop teachers in pornos, drank from the water fountain and looked up at past graduates framed and lining the walls. Faces smiled, some didn’t. A majority had a knowing look, a look of pride or finality. Then there was her. The corners of her mouth upturned in what had the framework of smile but in no way was. It was unsure, wavering and made me uncomfortable. I began to worry. Was she okay? Did she triumph over whatever made her feel such a way on that day? Was it just gas?
Was she here right now, ten years later, with the same look on her face? I looked at my watch and made my way back to the auditorium hoping for answers.