Sighing, she turned the vacuum cleaner back on. A casual outsider might have wondered how it had come to this, but for Anna the choice was clear: remain in Poland as a languages teacher, or earn three times as much for her family as a school cleaner in Britain. No-brainer, really. But how she missed the children.
She gazed out of the window, then turned around to survey the usual stuff on a languages room’s walls. Teaching French was much the same worldwide, she mused: wallcharts, posters, children’s work with words like “Bonjour!” and “Merci!” in various colours randomly displayed.
Sighing, she turned the vacuum cleaner back on. A casual outsider might have wondered how it had come to this, but for Anna the choice was clear: remain in Poland as a languages teacher, or earn three times as much for her family as a school cleaner in Britain. No-brainer, really. But how she missed the children. Comments are closed.
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Flash FictionFlash fiction is very, very short fiction indeed - short stories of any sort of length from a Haiku to ten minutes' reading. Good for when you're in a hurry. This series is a selection of contributions to Friday Flash Fiction, where there's a limit of 100 words. I try to make all mine exactly 100 words. Collections
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