Mademoiselle Poirier: A Short Story

For a brief moment, Viviana thought about raising her hand and telling Mademoiselle Poirier what the voice had told her; about why the soldiers were here, and what they were really attempting to do. Viviana wanted to tell Mademoiselle Poirier that there was something to fear and that no one outside of Bezonvaux was going to liberate them, at least, not anymore. There was a dreadful new war with Hungary and those strange clouds were coming in fast; pushed by the gales of York yet proceeding from the wrong direction. Storms and big ole’ gusts had always come in from the North West since time began, but things do change and not always for the better, Vivy presumed.
And as she closed her eyes for a moment she saw only darkness, and then limping …show more content…
She didn't respond to the fear in its voice. Instead, she tilted forward in her chair as sweat rolled down her face and turned her peach linen dress darker near her chest and lower back. The ding-a-lings near and fro cheered when it was announced class was ending early (the school photograph came with much success and Mademoiselle Poirier was feeling rather generous because of it) and Vivi watched them move, fidgety as cattle, down the center aisle. The kids sitting at the rear escaped easily, but then a bottleneck of screaming, anxious kids formed in the double doorway. Tadeas Lefèvre -- a lanky boy with a flat, piggy nose – was kicking hard at the back legs of Vivian’s chair while chewing on a caramelized biscuit, a little indulgent smile played around his mouth that looked more like a …show more content…
She opened a box of crayons from one of the shelves and snuck a few of her favorite colors – red and blonde-lemon -- into her pocket, and she saw many children were still crowded near the door. Michael Abbney and Peter Durand shouldered their way through the knot of kids reaching for their coats, and for a bemused moment, Vivi made a mental bet with herself that she would never see or hear from them again. She knew the odds were in her favor, but at the moment it didn't matter. What did matter was her headache was trying to come back. She took several deep breaths and quelled it - but her tummy felt horribly upset. With that she left, taking one last contemptuous look at Tadeas Lefèvre, his shirt caked with a few minor smears of chocolate and spit, his eyes wide, his lips stained in an ebony