Photo by Joshua Eckstein on Unsplash

A Swing Shift

Years I ago in a state of desperation I took a job at a ghetto high school. I was trying to get out of another job at another ghetto high school where the tiny rooms were packed with two times the legal Fire Marshall limit, and my co-teacher wore a skin tight skirt and translucent blouse to the first day of class. When she asked me, “How do I look?” I knew I needed to flee.