Until now. As she reread "The Angel," she sobbed tears of pure happiness. She felt like she was fifty-five again, or even forty-five or thirty-five.
All because of one student. One excellent student out of hundreds...an unacceptably dismal success rate decades ago, but today it was wondrous enough to make a teacher break down and cry. Not just any teacher, either, but America’s so-called Teacher of the Year for ten years running and a nominee for so-called Teacher of the Century.
If she hadn’t been so damned happy, Cilla Franklin might have been disappointed in herself.
"Congratulations," said the naked principal when Cilla entered his office for their "pow-wow." "You’re not dead!"
As good a mood as Cilla was in after receiving Byron’s poems, Caesar’s remark threw a shroud right o
