Jemna was beautiful. Her red hair fell to half a slim waist. She was sitting in front of me, and when the sun shone in the classroom and fell on her hair in brilliant glare, she was eating the mane, and the springs were airborne, I wanted to gently poke my fingers in the flood and lace her little ear. Often I was so out of my mind and stuck in the notion that I was not aware of classroom events, and she was blown away by most of the interpretation…
