THE ARCHIVES: Chapter 150

She Confessed

The classroom door’s handle jiggled,
and the cops strode out, their faces so stern,
they looked like figures in a wax museum.
One of them held a small baggie of green leaves
(it looked like a teabag),
the other restrained the two drug dogs
(barely older than puppies, excited at their first real discovery),
and they said at once, like robots, “Whose is this?”
The girl in my class covered her red face with her hands
like she could make herself invisible.
We all watched her, burning her with our eyes,
whispering behind our hands,
until she confessed.

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