Monkeys

Possibly my shortest story, and le gasp, I actually posted on a Friday. This is probably the first time I have ever done that on this blog.

            The marker smells like bananas. The classroom feels like it just recently rained. Her mind runs wild dreaming of singing monkey and chess playing toucans. The sweetest fruits grows deep in the jungles of her mind, and all she had to do to get them, was to open up her mind. The only problem was that reality was holding her back.

            “Mademoiselle Wilder!” said the unnamed French lady that has taken over for Mademoiselle Gaga for the rest of the year. She looks up at the teacher lazily, not really caring if she got into trouble or not.

            “Oui?” she asks.

            “Ecouter!” and the teacher started to mutter something in French, that none of the students learned yet. Though it sounded like she was saying about monkeys.  The girl sighs before replying oui again. Only she ended up slipping back into her imagination, a plan working out in her mind at how she can get the fruits. All it involved was one French lady, and a whole lot of trouble.