This is just something I wrote to see how rusty I was getting. If anyone wants to give me feedback, I’d really appreciate it. I’m looking more for thoughts on proper punctuation, grammar, sentence structure, etc.
These characters are over 18. (That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)
“Sorry about being late, Mr. Finch.”
“It’s okay, Danny, just take a seat and I’ll grade it.”
Turning away, Dan crossed the classroom and sat at an empty desk. With everyone else gone for the day, only he and his tutor remained. Danny’s teacher was in his late thirties, wearing glasses, khakis, and with specks of gray in his thinning hair.
The awkward silence of the room was occasionally broken by the clicks of the wall clock, or by the scraping of pencil on paper. Danny watched patiently before his teacher finally picked up his homework, scanning it like a machine.
Mr. Finch’s face twisted into an expression of amused confusion. “Did you write this?” he asked, tapping his finger against the paper.
“Yeah, I wrote it last night.”
Danny felt uncomfortable as his teacher stared. He didn’t understand what was causing problems, but Mr. Finch looked completely bemused.
“Danny,” he said, clearing his throat before continuing, “can you tell me what your essay is about?”
More confused than ever, Dan sat upright and swallowed nervously. “Uhm … It’s about the Hubble Telescope. You said we could write about anything we wanted-”
“Yeah- See, this isn’t that … this is … well it’s pornography.”
Danny felt as if someone had replaced his blood with ice water. His stomach tightened, and a pressure built in his lungs. During his morning rush, he realized that he must’ve grabbed the wrong sheet of paper.
“Wh-wh what? Th-That can’t be, I … let me see it.” Standing, he stepped across the room and took the paper from his teacher’s hand. Skimming the story, Danny felt as if he might actually faint. Somehow, he had managed to hand over his most perverted, disgusting story to his English teacher.
“Uhm,” was all he could muster. Words wouldn’t save him now, the damage was done.
“So you really wrote that?” Mr. Finch asked, leaning back in his chair.
Danny still couldn’t speak, but before he could make up a lie, his tutor continued. “You know, It might just be the best thing you’ve written.”
Dan turned to face him, “It is?”
“Well … it still has plenty of errors, but you clearly had passion when you wrote it. Yeah … I think you should do more like that.”
Mr. Finch smiled, “I do. Here- pull up a seat and we’ll go over it.”
Awkwardly, Dan retrieved a chair before sitting next to his tutor. With the two of them looking over his paper, Mr. Finch began pointing out mistakes that he had made; proper punctuation placement, sentence structure, and even remarking which scenes he liked the most.
— — new
“Do you think I’m … weird?”
“You mean for writing this?”
The teacher drew in a breath, humming as he exhaled through his nose. “No. No I don’t think you are. I think a lot of people have secret fantasies like this, but they keep them hidden.”
Mr. Finch smiled, “Yes, Danny, even me.”
The two sat quietly after that, Danny simply watched his teacher go over the story, crossing out mistakes and circling good sections. After a moment, he reached for his blue marker, scribbling a B+ at the top.
“Now obviously,” said Mr. Finch, handing the paper back, “that isn’t something to hang on the refrigerator.”
Danny grinned, nodding in agreement.
“But I need to ask: The Carla in your story … is it your mother?”
Beginning to blush, Dan nodded again, trying to suppress his smile.
“Nice,” Mr. Finch winked, “Keep it up, I want to see what happens to her next.”