Ann sat in class hidden away like a little snail in a garden of noisy cabbages. Everyone took part in the class discussions, but Ann was too shy. She rarely spoke, and when she did the teacher would always say, “Speak up.”
The class were given a writing assignment: Write about something dear to you.
Ann’s grandmother had just died. Ann had not told a soul at school, but she thought for her assignment she would write about her grandmother.
She did that.
“This” said the teacher “is full of sloppy sentiment. I didn’t believe a word of it. You should’ve written about something dear to you in real life and not pretended to be writing a mawkish load of nonsense for a cheap romance. I’m giving it a FAIL because the person you described comes across as a slushy mushy figure of idiocy.”
Ann smiled and continued to hate school.
(Footnote: I have the flu so will be lying low for the next couple of days. Of course, being male, I feel it so much worse).