Ms. Jerryson
13 March 2007 00:06![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skonen_bladesMs. Jerryson had a brace on her leg. One foot clanked.
She was old. Looking back, she was probably only about forty-something but to us children, she was ancient. Her age held power and fear.
English was the subject that she taught. Her thin skin dissolved into fissured wrinkles around her eyes, close to her ears, and under her chin but the front of her face was nearly wrinkle-free. It added to her terrifying allure.
Her body was a thick rectangle of utilitarian muscle and fat corners. She looked like a python digesting the edges off of a refrigerator.
Her white hair could not be tamed. It was hair that would have made Einstein jealous. On Mondays, she’d have it tied back and over the week it would rebel. It was like she’d get herself together on the weekend, marshal her faculties along with her hairdo, and march in every Monday anew before life and her students would grind her down.
Rumour had it that her hair used to be as red as fire and would catch the sun to blind you.
She was never beautiful.
She was my favourite teacher.
Blind in one eye, gaps in the smile, and words to paint a house with. To listen to her speak was to hear the most famous of orators. Everyone has paled in comparison.
Ms. Jerryson held us in thrall. She fascinated us. A scolding from her left a person permanently mentally scarred. She was entertaining and harsh.
I never heard of her death. I would not be surprised in the slightest if she was still teaching.
tags
She was old. Looking back, she was probably only about forty-something but to us children, she was ancient. Her age held power and fear.
English was the subject that she taught. Her thin skin dissolved into fissured wrinkles around her eyes, close to her ears, and under her chin but the front of her face was nearly wrinkle-free. It added to her terrifying allure.
Her body was a thick rectangle of utilitarian muscle and fat corners. She looked like a python digesting the edges off of a refrigerator.
Her white hair could not be tamed. It was hair that would have made Einstein jealous. On Mondays, she’d have it tied back and over the week it would rebel. It was like she’d get herself together on the weekend, marshal her faculties along with her hairdo, and march in every Monday anew before life and her students would grind her down.
Rumour had it that her hair used to be as red as fire and would catch the sun to blind you.
She was never beautiful.
She was my favourite teacher.
Blind in one eye, gaps in the smile, and words to paint a house with. To listen to her speak was to hear the most famous of orators. Everyone has paled in comparison.
Ms. Jerryson held us in thrall. She fascinated us. A scolding from her left a person permanently mentally scarred. She was entertaining and harsh.
I never heard of her death. I would not be surprised in the slightest if she was still teaching.
tags