Short Fiction, short story

Math Problems

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Perry Jameson always thought his station in life was to follow in the footsteps of his father, an accountant. There was only one small problem, Perry did not understand math. His father sat with him poring over math homework, Perry, staring of the numbers, his father scratching his head, rubbing his eyes, tapping his pencil in frustration. Determined to use the old school methods of writing out the problems, Perry’s father insisted that Perry must get the answers correct and they spent numerous hours, often on weekends, too. Then, it occurred to Perry’s father, when he was working on a reconciliation of accounts, that Perry may not see the numbers in the same way as his father. When he got home from work, Perry’s father sat down with Perry and they worked closely, one number at a time, not working on problems, but writing down and reading numbers and using some tools he learned about in his research; gradually, Perry gained a better understanding about math and his father sighed many sighs of relief and was, frankly, more than embarrassed that it did not occur to him, as one of the rules of accounting is to check for transposition of numbers when errors indicated this, which was obvious, when using proper tools.

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Transposition Errors

Teaching Math to Students with Dyslexia

And there you have it! This is my Six Sentence Story for the week. Would you like to join? Go to this link to get more information!

poetry, Uncategorized

The Last Day

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The Last Day
 
Watching that large white faced black handed clock
I could almost hear the second hand turn
tick tick ticking along
doing the math in my head
12 times every 5 seconds equals 1 minute
hands sweaty and holding my books tightly to my chest
ready to make the run for it
when the bell would ring

Off we would go and not one tarry behind
at least I would not know
I was gone gone gone

Now at my much older age
I wonder what it’s like
the last day of school
when school is not open
when kids are learning at home
what do they grasp
what makes their palms sweat
where will they home
when they are already home

I loved and lived for those last days
how I wish each child could know that feeling
not to mention teachers
and parents
yeah
yay for last days
may they come again soon
to a school near you

Short Fiction, short story

The Question

sky earth galaxy universe
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Squirming restlessly in his seat, he knew he was in trouble with the lesson for this day.

Questioning every one of the questions on the board, he struggled with analyzing what the teacher wanted to know.

Calling his name, the time had come to go to the board and answer the third question: Who is the first lady? As he struggled with the right answer, someone was whispering from the sidelines, distracting him, but trying to be helpful.

Grasping the chalk tightly in his sweat saturated hand, he tapped on the board with the chalk before writing, “Eve.”

Schoolmates let out giggles and the teacher even had a slight smile on her usual stern face before she said, I mean of this country.

“Heck,” he said, “I oughta get extra credit ‘cause I’s thinkin’ of the whole world!”

The whole class then burst out in laughter and the teacher had to agree that on this day, there was no questioning that the world could use another Eve.

…..

There you have it with this weeks 6 Sentence Story.

Rules of the hop:
Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less.
Use the current week’s prompt word.
Link the URL to your post via the blue “Click here to enter” button below .
Spread the word and put in a good one to your fellow writers  😀

PROMPT WORD:  QUESTION

Want to participate Here’s the LINK 

Short Fiction, short story

Routines of Love

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Belinda looked out the window, her red strands stringing her eyes, still crusted with sandman’s presents; This was her routine each and every day, gazing to the lands and wishing for her dreams to come true; Closing her eyes, stating her wishes into prayers, she then bounced up onto her feet and bounced into the nursery, letting her little brother know her presence.

Smiling, squirming, hiccupping from his milk filled belly, Cleveland wiggled his chubby legs in delight from seeing his sister, clearly loving the routine of being greeted by her cheerfulness; Grasping him carefully, Belinda pulled him up and into her arms, hugging him while singing to him her favorite made up song, written especially for him.

“Baby Cleveland, cheery boy, you are my most favorite joy, how I wish to help you grow, always and ever more to know; How I love you, yes I do, and I always will, it’s true; One day when you are grown up, you’ll still be my buttercup, never will you leave my heart, you have been there from the start.”

stack of love wooden blocks
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Giggling and pulling her long tresses, Cleveland clearly adored his big sister, enchanted by her blue-green eyes, he poked at them with his chubby fingers, before reaching for his own as if comparing them with his own rich blue orbs; Carrot tops matching, these two were like two peas in a pod, so to speak, but there was one thing for sure, they were also very different; This was one thing that Belinda would be sure about: personalities.

Just down the road, a few houses down, Barton was also up for the day, doing his routine of chores before going to school, knowing his homework was likely suffering, he had routine responsibilities which took him away from book learning; Sure to make up for his father’s own duties, Barton needed to see to it that his mother did not suffer any more than she already seemed to, as her sighs of sadness prevailed; Taking a moment to take his mother some fresh tea, Barton took her hands in his, gazed into her brown eyes, moist from longing, and told her how beautiful she was and how it was going to be another good day, all before Barton gathered up his books and lunch, putting soles to the dirt road, hoping to catch Belinda on the way to school.

Waving goodbye to her mother, Belinda bounced out the door, books and lunch in hand and looking about, hoping to see Barton as he always made her smile; Sure as the sun shone, there he was picking up his step when he eyed her, almost running to her side; “Good morning Belinda,” Barton breathlessly greeted her, “I hope you don’t mind if I carry your books,” And with this, Belinda smiled at Barton, handed him her books and smiled, nudging along with their hands waiting to be held.

photo of pathway surrounded by trees
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…..
This is my Six Sentence Story for this week in response to Denise’s prompt word: Routine

Perhaps you would like to publish a story to this prompt. You can go to Girlie on the Edge and check out the rules of the blog hop. It’s a lot of fun!