My Teacher Is Not My Hero

The Heaviest Baggage

 6:42 PM. We reached her home. I can hear her voice shaking as she called her son to open the gate for her. It seemed that never in that time she saw my shadow following her lead. “Ma’am, here are your books” talking from her back offering the books that she left. “Would you like some juice or water, honey?” she asked. My heart sank even more hearing her voice. She spoke the swiftest, yet the sweetest sound ever heard after a long walk. 7:00 AM. The alarm just rang as the sunlight struck from the window. And I woke up. I stretched my hands and legs. Got my specs on and draw an old letter written on a crumpled paper.