Leblouche's diary

3. Back to school (1)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: When Leblouche reads a paragraph from the diary, the text will be italicized but when someone interacts in a narration of the paragraph the text will be normal.

Opening the dusty diary, fine dust rose into the air, dancing in the rays of sunlight that filtered through the window. I noticed that the pages were yellow, yellower than The Simpsons' complexion, and slightly sticky to the touch.

However, the writing, despite its apparent age, was remarkably legible. I delved into the inscribed words with growing curiosity, discovering a glimpse of the past.

"Dear Diary...

Today marked the end of summer vacation, and the start of the school year was inevitable. Although I can't deny that the vacation was fantastic, full of memorable moments, it was time to go back to school. I can't say I'm complaining, because I'm excited to meet new classmates and reunite with my old friends..."

This is how the story began. My own past played out before me, as if I was witnessing a bygone era.

"Hello Leblouche!" Laurent welcomed me warmly.

"Hey, hi! It's been a while. I thought you were gone to Martinique forever," I replied with a hint of mockery.

"Disappearing for three months doesn't mean I plan to stay there forever. I mean, it was like... 45 degrees there. Do you really think I could have resisted?" he replied with a smile.

"Who knows, maybe. Nothing is certain," I replied enigmatically.

I am now in my 2nd year of college, I get it into my head that studies will be harder and more serious, I am now mature and I have to prove it.

*bell rings*

"Come on, young people, choose a seat. Class is about to begin," declared Mr. Duclos, my French teacher.

"Mr. Duclos, a respected figure, was my teacher for this school year. He seemed to have been promoted to an even higher position, which was deserved, given his teaching skills."

"Let's start with introductions. I'm Mr. Duclos, your homeroom and French teacher. There are some familiar faces and some new faces here," he announced.

"He warned us that this year would be serious, because the following year would be the year of preparation and that we had to prepare seriously for the future.

The French class turned out to be more interesting than expected, Mr. Duclos having perhaps adjusted his teaching methods, while retaining his characteristic humor. This created a pleasant atmosphere, which made him popular with all the students."

"Mr. Duclos was truly an excellent teacher...I wonder what school he teaches at now," I wondered.

I learned that, for unknown reasons, Mr. Duclos had resigned after approximately ten years of service in our establishment, without retiring, simply to join another establishment.

Then, a realization suddenly dawned on me: time had passed quickly. The wall clock already showed 9 p.m.

"Nine fourty-five already?!" I exclaimed, shocked.

I had been so absorbed in reading my newspaper that I had not noticed the hours that had passed, or even put away the boxes that I had dropped when opening the newspaper.

"Okay, I'll have to continue my reading tomorrow. I'm really exhausted," I said, tired.

I picked up the scattered boxes, cleaned up the mess I had made, ate a quick dinner, and finally collapsed onto my bed, wondering about the past while planning my return to the present.