“Timothy, would you like to share your poem with the class next?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” Mrs. Ferguson tells him. “Get up here.”

Tim rolls his eyes, but picks up the food-stained piece of paper (one ripped out of a notebook with all the little frizzies left on the edge, to the annoyance of some of his more OCD teachers). Ocne at the front of ( Read more... )

ever hear of SMITHteens and their six-word memoirs?
my first one got featured.
suh-weet.