Chapter 4:
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The door opened slowly, as if hesitant to reveal what was behind it. And in walked Ms. Dawland, not with her usual clipboard nor lesson plans, just a big fluffy duvet wrapped around her like some sort of majestic gown of floral patterns.
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It trailed across the immaculate tiles, a train of the flowers. The class went silent, not the normal kind expected from us, but the 'left speechless' type. She didn't blink, just glided to the board and began her lesson on Hamlet. As if this was ordinary.
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I glanced around the room, waiting for someone to tell me that this was some sort of joke. But as always, they were staring straight ahead, taking notes, answering questions. Twice did it fall off of her shoulder, but she just sighed and continued on how amazingly written the play was.
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By the 3rd week, it was just a part of her, and we forgot to question it. A new dressing style that was in fashion.
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and then Add to home screen.