My Mona Lisa
It was the last class of the day and the teacher was absent. I was bored to tears. Then, I sketched Mona Lisa on the wall behind my seat. The monitor thought it was a beautiful fresco and the entire class agreed. I swelled up with pride. A commotion ensued when I announced that no matter where we moved in the room, Mona Lisa's eyes would follow us. I had captured the essence of the painting.
The class was still abuzz with my masterpiece when I ambled in the room the next day. I gazed at my sketch comparing it to the image in the History book, wondering if the smile could somehow be improved. The voices in the room seemed like the whirr of cheering when you are sprinting on a racetrack. And then there was pin drop silence. The History teacher had just entered.
"Good Morning," we said in a chorus.
She motioned for us to sit down. "Whose work is that?" she asked, pointing to the sketch behind me.
I stood up straightening my skirt, ready for her praises. After all we were reading the chapter on the Renaissance era.
"Erase the wall right now," came her booming voice. I was confused, unsure if I had heard correctly. "At thirteen you should know better than to doodle on walls."
Doodle? I went crimson as stares and giggles followed.
submitted at 6:35pm
12 April 2012