Tuesday, March 8, 2011

(Recommended Read) 'The Placenta Of The Christ' by Ray Garton

At the end of chapel one morning, Tom Spinner, the vice principal, rushed to the pulpit. He alwaysrushed to the pulpit, as if to get there before the powers that be changed their minds about letting him speak. He was a man of medium height with auburn hair that looked like it had been cut in the dark. It was parted on the right and flopped down on his forehead boyishly. He had a long mustache that extended beyond the corners of his mouth. When he spoke, it was in an artificially deep voice. I don’t know how Mr. Spinner really talked, but whenever he talked to students or spoke from the pulpit, it was in that fake deep voice that trembled slightly as he struggled to maintain it. It always sounded like he was trying to do an impression of Mr. Sulu on Star Trek. On that misty November morning, he went to the pulpit and leaned close to the microphone, as always – his artificial deep voice was not very loud – and said, “I have noticed that when you are dismissed from the chapel, you all leave at once and get bottlenecked at the doors. This is a problem. I have come up with a way to remedy that...”

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