A Short Prose Story By Stella Collic, Grade 5
For now, since it is Winter, lunch is indoors. I look around and everyone has their masks
off. I’m afraid to take off my mask, so I hold my breath as I quickly slip my mask off and on while
I take one bite at a time. Lunch is finally over. Our next class starts. When that class is over, I
look at my desk and watch the glare of the plexiglass move across. I don’t even remember
what it feels like to not wear a mask. I start to get sad every time I think about the pandemic. I
look at the ground and study the pattern in the glare of a table leg that’s six feet away from me. I
walk out of the classroom when it’s time to go to P.E., looking at my feet and trying not to think
about how bad the back of my ears are hurting. But still, the mask pulls. I’m wishing P.E. is over,
as oxygen tries to get through my mask. And only is it easy to breathe while at home.
