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| The Tuesday Slice of Life is hosted by Stacy and Ruth on their blog Two Writing Teachers. Here's my weekly Slice. |
He had a certain ageless
quality that could have been a hard-lived forty-five or a relatively healthy
eighty. He was thin, almost gaunt, wore
dirty jeans several inches too big for his waist, held up with a hemp rope. His face was wrinkled, teeth long and
yellowed, lively embers for eyes, and a long, white and wispy beard. His hair was the biggest thing about him, coiled
and matted into a tangled dreadlock, balanced above his head and contained in a
homemade rasta hat made of old denim. He
was a character to say the least and he initially intimidated the students, but
some braver ones finally started chatting him up.
I could write pages about
Merril, the name he gave us; about his expert chess playing, seeming knowledge
of everything, husking and tapping coconuts for our morning drink, or go on an
on about his appearance. But his gift to
me was to further my understanding of my classes as a group of with different
strengths and abilities to communicate.
