Writing Practice

As she walked into the room, her senses were transported to an older time.  The scent that filled her nose was difficult to describe, yet achingly familiar, a blend of cleaning chemicals, fresh paint, and new books.  Her memory supplied the absent scrape of chairs and voices of children that usually sounded in the space.  Taking several steps into the classroom, she trailed her fingers over a desk to feel the smooth wood.

Sunlight streamed in through tall windows, high ceilings giving the room an open, airy feel.  Identical desks with identical chairs stood in perfect rows.  Stacks of textbooks sat on the counter lining the wall below the windows.  She approached the large desk at the front of the room, putting down her purse, and went to the whiteboard.  Picking up one of the new dry erase markers, she leaned against the desk and contemplated the expanse.  Finally, she uncapped the marker, reached up, and began writing in large, curvy letters.  “Welcome to 3rd grade!”