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Once a long time ago I had a neurotic teacher. She would shout at the children and as she shouted she would go red in the face and a strange flap would puff out on her neck. But perhaps the strange flap was the reason she shouted.
Why is it here of all places that I remember her?
I can recall more agreeable women. Grandmother sitting at her sewing machine. The noise of the machine stopped.
She tilted her head, blinks and threads the needle.

Hey. Seagull.