Frozen In Time

We were told to simply "grab what we can," and when I stepped in that dark classroom I wasn't prepared for this wave of emotions.  I can't tell you how many times I have popped into my room over a weekend, winter break, even summer vacation because I needed something, or even had forgotten something.  It is always eerily quiet.  Things seem frozen in time. This time it was markedly different.

Fondly, I looked at Brady's red homework folder (which he had forgotten) and Anya had forgotten to put away both her markers and pens.  I touched them absentmindedly.

I  glanced at my post it, and gathered my things randomly.

I walked to the door, and came back to push in Aarav's chair.  I looked at our colorful PiKu poems on the whiteboard as I switched off the lights. "To be continued," I decided silently in my head. I propped the door open, balancing our classroom aquarium, and my book bag.  I never even heard the door close behind me.