Looking Through The Hourglass

Essay by PaperNerd ContributorCollege, Undergraduate October 2001

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Keith Duffy Eng 101 September 13, 2001 Looking Through the Hour Glass Third period ends, and its time for English class with Mr. Coelho. As I walk out into the halls it resembles something just short of organized chaos. Kids tightly packed into the thin halls of Dighton- Rehoboth Regional High School, desperately trying to sprint down the them in order to avoid being late for their next class, and evading the chance of a possible detention. Not me though. Nope. No need to rush. I just strolled to my bright red locker, number 678 if I remember correctly. Once I got there, I opened the door, grabbed my lunch and headed off to room 218. I took my seat in the back of the room, Coelho wasn't there yet, so it was time to find out what the story that we were supposed to read last night. For this I usually turned to my best friend Nick.

Nick was one of those students teacher's loved, did what was expected of him and then some. After a quick summary from Nick, Coelho usually would finally make it to the room. Mr. Coelho was a heavy set man, had gray curly hair, glasses, and a raspy voice similar to Daffy Ducks . His typical attire was a pin striped shirt, khaki pants, and a pair of Doc Martins. On a typical day we would start class off with a quiz on the reading. I never read any of the assignments, but that's where Nick came in. I was the king of B.S., and for the most part I got A's on all of those quizzes, which was ironic cause Nick would usually get D's. This enraged Nick for a couple of minutes, and he couldn't understand how I did it.

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