by Marie Cloutier
I only did it because I knew it was bad, scrawled that word, the worst of the four letter words, on the brown pressboard wall of my nursery school cubby. How did the teacher find it? Then I saw the sun flowing in and illuminating the pencil marks like graphite neon. I forget the punishment now but I know it made me cry, maybe not the punishment but the shame of it, being called out, getting caught, even though I probably wanted to, get caught that is. Show that teacher I wasn't just a goody-goody, not just anyway. Not just.
Marie Cloutier (she/her) writes about girlhood and womanhood and complicated loves and losses. Her work has appeared in Bending Genres, Dorothy Parker's Ashes , the Sheepshead Review and elsewhere. She is at work on a memoir. Her website is www.mariecloutier.com.
Love this story Marie!
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