Angel

"Colin, what is it that makes you think about life?" Mr. Cole, my Speech Communications teacher asks. I sigh and look around eyes pierce me with thoughtful curiosity. Usually I would just pop a smart comment but this question... Hit hard. What made me think about life? I suck in my bottom lip and shrug, "Death maybe... Honestly, I have no idea, for me I just...like when I am bored it just pops into my head but it depends... Like I said I have no clue.” Mr. Cole nods and teepees his fingers. "All day I have been waiting for that answer! Good, Colin, okay now...why does death make us think of life? That is your essay topic, four pages, explain to me why, once the passing of a person is known to us, do we think about life. Not just the life the person lived but also the life ourselves are still presently living “I clamp my mouth shut and go back to drawing. Groans fill the room as Mr. Cole chuckles, "Yes, I hate you all... so much that you get to have a partner, one partner, not two or three, one, you each write two pages, I do not care how you do it, get it done, you have a week." He says quickly, the tension decreases, then the bell rings ending the school day. I gather my books, stuff them into my satchel, and walk out the door.