Ms Begum in Love
I can’t help it whenever I look up I find I’m staring at Ms Begum’s face, we all do it. There’s something fascinatingly about that creped mouth drawn on in lipstick. We look till her radar clocks us then look down quick in case her blood-shot eyes turn us into something.
Her tongue’s worse; we’re drawn to it with nauseous fascination. We’ve spent weeks trying to work out how it fits into that fat short neck. Maybe it’s telescopic, such a hideous navy colour too, dripping strings of saliva on her brand new laptop. It’s unnatural the way she wraps it round her pencils sucking their sharpened tips. There’s a tongue that defies the laws of physics.
Even her hair’s odd like a withered poinsettia, as if she dyed her whole head auburn to compliment the green of her scales. Yes proper scales, polishes them every break with some strange muck in a bottle. She stole her personality from an injured crocodile, else she’s the result of a pact with the devil, leastways if there’s a skeleton in her cupboard it’s human.
Bagshore caught her eating locusts in the science-lab. She had him there ages, till the head overheard screaming and insisted she removed the electrical probes.
Funny thing though, she actually fancies the head. Course he’s totally embarrassed. Her giggling whenever he appears, fluttering greasy eyelids and puffing out her chest like a huge blue-tongued turkey. Gobble, gobble, spit-yuck and he’s off at the first available, leaving her in a right mood. Look at her now just looking for trouble.
“Henrietta Sybil what are you doing?”
Now there’s a loaded question “Nothing”
I hate this game, everyone is looking holding their breath, if I take the fall they might make it home “Nothing err..”
“Miss! Miss! Nothing Miss!
In her bulgy eyes I see malevolent glee, I’ve fallen right into her web and she knows it.
“AH SO SHE ADMITS IT DOES SHE? SHE’S DOING NOTHING, IN MY LESSON!”