former teacher of the year

i run into my neighbor

at the local dive

bar on the other side

of the railroad tracks.

she teaches 3rd grade

at the elementary school,

which is part online and

part in class.

she was  former teacher

of the year in the tri state area.

she's cradling a whiskey sour

in both hands,

hunched over the bar.

hey, i say to her, sitting

down.

she looks at me.

dark circles are under her

eyes, and she's been

crying. her hands are

black with ink

and there's a stack of

papers next to her on

the bar. her laptop is

open with the picture

of an empty classroom

being wiped down by

by a janitor in a hazmat suit.

how are the classes

this year, i ask her.

any fun students?

shut up, she says. leave

me alone.

i'm drinking here.