Sunlight slanted in through the window over the bookshelf. In its focus sat a very tall and lean lady. She sat, her back straight, as though she were playing a piano. But she was reading the script of a play her student had written. It was a play about a shootout at the school. It was a true account. She knew everything about it. She was there, a witness to the gruesome murder of three students and a security guard. They were shot at by their deranged school principal. It had been a horrible shock.
She let out a deep sigh as she pushed the sheets back into the folder. She rested her back against the chair, laced her fingers behind her head, and closed her eyes. It was a long time ago.
It was the year 1984, the year when Nina and her friends got their first jobs. The year they marched into adulthood, excited about their paychecks and their dreams...
(To be continued)
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