Here is the story continuing:
The microwave dinged, signaling his lonely meal was ready. John pulled it out without enthusiasm and sat down at his small dining table. As he ate the lukewarm mystery meat and overcooked vegetables by himself in the dim light, he felt an old familiar ache of sadness creep into his soul.
How had things come to this? He wracked his brain, thinking back over the years. It seemed the cuts had started small at first, barely noticeable. But they piled up one after the next, hollowing out the heart of the school until there was little left of what John had originally loved. The youths suffered most of all, of course. With classes swelling in size and supplies dwindling, how could any of them feel free to learn and grow?
After finishing his depressing meal in silence, John decided he needed to get out of the empty house for a bit. He pulled on his worn coat and headed back out into the chill evening. His feet carried him down the sidewalk without conscious direction, lost in troubled thoughts. Before long he found himself standing in front of the high school once more, dark and forbidding now without the cacophony of teenagers within.
Gazing up at the peeling paint and darkened windows, John felt something inside him crack just a little more. How could the district allow this place, this beacon of community and knowledge, to crumble away into ruin? Didn't they care about the potential they were snuffing out with each new neglect? His students deserved so much more - they all did. But with budget after budget failing, what hope was left ❓
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