Cynthia Clark

A Time of Healing Cynthia Clark

I looked to the right and saw a chalkboard on the wall. The chalk writing had faded but it looked as if they had been adding numbers. A teacher's desk was a distance in front of the chalkboard with a rotten apple on the dust covered desk. Spiders crawled to and fro and a cup of pencils turned on its side. I looked to the left and gasped in surprise. Maybe not so much surprise as pain. I felt the tears leaving my eyes. They eased slowly, but by the time I exited the room a flood had come. My eyes had seen and my mind would forever remember the little children sitting in their chairs. Skeletal mouths opened as if screaming for release. The cleansing had caught them and they had been frozen in time.