- Group
- Amministratore
- Posts
- 11,026
- Creepy Score
- +1,272
- Status
- Anonymous
|
|
"All right, children." Miss Spencer clapped her hands. "It's circle time."
The preschoolers sat on the big rug in the middle of the church basement floor, in a rough approximation of a circle. "Today we're going to play a game called Telephone," Miss Spencer said. "I will whisper a message to Benjamin. He will whisper the message to Emily, and Emily will whisper it to Nathan, and we'll go around the circle until the message gets back to me. And then we'll see if the message is the same or if it has changed. Ready?" She leaned down and cupped her hand around Benjamin's ear. "Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of rye," she whispered.
The children passed the message around the circle, giggling, their heads almost touching as the secret was whispered into their waiting ears. She smiled down at the boy on her left, the last link in the chain. He listened intently as a girl in striped leggings gave him the message, softly, her chubby hand hiding her mouth.
The boy was new, and Miss Spencer didn't know his name. He must have arrived late, after the good morning song. She was surprised the director hadn't mentioned that another child would be joining her class. His dark brown eyes were serious in his solemn face. She tilted her head encouragingly. "Would you like to tell us the message?"
"Sing a song Miss Spencer, you put him in the lye," he said.
The children shrieked with laughter as Miss Spencer struggled to maintain her composure. "That was certainly different!" She finally managed. She picked up a book. "It's story time."
"Nooo!" A chorus of high voices shouted their disapproval. "The game! We want to play the game!"
She hesitated. "All right. One more time." She set the book down slowly, thinking. "Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep and doesn't know where to find them," she whispered in Benjamin's small, downy ear.
The message passed quickly around the circle, to the little boy with the dark brown eyes. Miss Spencer waited uneasily for him to speak.
"Brittle bones sleep and fester deep 'cos she doesn't know how to grind them." His childish voice rang out clearly.
"And why did the last teacher leave?" The young woman asked, after the director had shown her the facility. The director shook her head. "She had an...episode. A breakdown, you might call it." The director sighed. "Most unfortunate. Her fiancee went missing. I suppose she couldn't handle the grief."
"How sad," the young woman murmured.
|
|