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Michael Byers Photo by Charles Miles fiction h, he was a lousy fifth grade teacher, certainly worse than any of his own teachers had been with the possible exception of Mrs. Davis, she of the pear bottom and mustache, and he having volunteered himself to teach only because he had no skills and no direction after college aside from the fanciful notion of going home to Seattle and somehow working for a newspaper, which was never anything but an idea, and because his girlfriend Antonia was signing up, and because he sometimes enjoyed her company and she enjoyed his, and he had no better opportunities. Then by the middle of his second year he and Antonia were barely tolerating one another and living with their blond housemate Chrissy Cox in the town of Fort Destry, Texas, all of them working at José Cultivar Elementary School three miles down the split-lane highway along the Destry River, which was sludgy and full of rotting reeds, the school sprawled at the edge of Fort Destry itself beneath a platoon of power lines that hummed as though full of marching demons. The flag was raised and saluted every morning, they unconstitutionally prayed
The Missouri Review – University of Missouri
Published: Jul 19, 2017
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