Gender Swap-Fiction

My eyes search for the clock 5:30 blinks like a detonator. The bomb is ticking and there is nothing I can do about it. I swing my feet over the bed a start to get ready for my first day.
I walk confidently into the school. It is my first day as a 4th grade elementary teacher at Kennedy. This shouldn’t be an unusual event, a lot of kids and teachers are starting their first day. Ah, but my case is slightly different than anyone else’s here. I am the first male teacher this elementary school has ever had. Male elementary teachers rare gems. Not many of my kind go into the elementary field, but the small amount that do, usually have jobs within weeks of getting out of college. I am a fresh 23 year old male, just out of college.
I didn’t expect to get this job so easily. I knew becoming a teacher had its difficulties. But this job offer was too good to pass up. Kennedy is a prestigious private school with a history of all female teachers. But now, studies have shown that it is beneficial to have a “father” figure in the classroom.
Kids have not shown up yet but the hallways are in full swing. Gossip of the first male teacher has spread and the proof is walking to the workroom to fill his coffee cup.
Of course I was cautious. How would you feel if you found out every single of of your co-workers were women? At first I thought this would be a good thing. I am single and starting a new life! But what happens after the excitement is over? Who am I going to get beers with after a long day of grading? Will all of our conversations be female based?
Maybe taking this job wasn’t the best idea after all.

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My Single Page Letter- Fiction

It was only until I released the pencil that I realized how hard I was gripping. It lay flat on my wooden kitchen table, defeated. I picked up the sheet of paper and hold it up to the light, as if it were counterfeit. My handwriting started out so neat, full of confidence, as it always does. As I continued writing my words got sloppy. My shaky penmanship will surely be noted, I will once again have to start over.
It’s seems when I need time, I sure have less of it. When I have time to waste, I am always waiting for it to be over. I neatly fold the single sheet of paper and place it in the trash, on top of the other attempts. The clock reads nearly noon and I gather my belongings. It will only take 5 minuets to reach the conference room but in this weather, it could take up to a half hour. And I am already late. My beat-up Voltswagon sputters in the cold air. Surely it won’t die on me today, of all days!
I nearly give up when a familiar Cadillac pulls up beside my metal piece-of-junk. All he has to do is give a small wave, allowing me to enter his car. I swear to myself, if I wasn’t in desperate need, I would not allow myself to be within 50 feet of him. But of course, whenever I am damsel in distress, he always shows up.
Derek pulls out of the dinky parking lot and heads toward the conference building, without asking what happened or where I’m going. Of course he knows on Tuesday I need to be headed to my meeting. He knows me too well and I kick myself for letting him get so close. How could I have been so stupid!? He is the person who would come help an ex-girlfriend, no matter the circumstances.
The only time I would allow myself to speak to him again was to give him my single page letter, explaining. Not anything in particular. Just explaining. But that letter was far from being done, an I find myself inside his warm Cadillac, driving me to my Tuesday meeting.

Time Doesn’t Wait For Anyone- Fiction

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Lucy’s Velcro shoes were once again on the wrong foot. I knelt down and started to take them off. Things around the house were a lot like Lucy’s shoes, incongruous.

The dogs whimper to be let in but I am still working on Lucy’s shoes. Tiny shoes for tiny feet. Something so simple, makes perfect sense. Where is the sense in my life? Not too long ago I was fresh out of college, looking forward to whatever life brought me. Now, five years later, I am worn down, ready for a break. I never expected my mother to be true. Life is a hassle.

Time doesn’t wait for anyone. We would be on time if Lucy didn’t wake up without a fit and my alarm clock had gone off five minuets earlier. But now, we are running out the door, following the same schedule we run 5 days a week. If only time wasn’t such a bitch.