let's go down town and meet the modern kids [closed/incomplete]
Characters: Calliope, Epiales
Date/Time: Friday afternoon
Location: Manhattan
Rating: tbc
Warnings: Unlikely
Summary: Calliope not entirely enamoured of New York right now. Let's see if Epiales can help.
Calliope had had enough. The weekend hadn't come soon enough. She had come to the conclusion that the children in her class weren't the problem, precisely; it was their parents. They were so demanding. They didn't seem to understand that little Johnny and little Freddy and little Janey were not musical prodigies. There was very little prodigious about them, in truth. She had expected to leave the school about an hour previously but there was a line of parents waiting to speak with her.
It wasn't her fault that she gave bad grades. The children didn't deserve any better. They weren't applying themselves. They didn't love the music and she could only inspire them so far. After the last father had left (and Calliope didn't use her flair once; he was a stammering, stuttering idiot), she slung her bag over her shoulder (a lovely leather satchel, given to her by one of her wonderful sisters) and walked back towards the complex.
At least it was only cold and not snowing or raining today. At least it was the weekend.
Date/Time: Friday afternoon
Location: Manhattan
Rating: tbc
Warnings: Unlikely
Summary: Calliope not entirely enamoured of New York right now. Let's see if Epiales can help.
Calliope had had enough. The weekend hadn't come soon enough. She had come to the conclusion that the children in her class weren't the problem, precisely; it was their parents. They were so demanding. They didn't seem to understand that little Johnny and little Freddy and little Janey were not musical prodigies. There was very little prodigious about them, in truth. She had expected to leave the school about an hour previously but there was a line of parents waiting to speak with her.
It wasn't her fault that she gave bad grades. The children didn't deserve any better. They weren't applying themselves. They didn't love the music and she could only inspire them so far. After the last father had left (and Calliope didn't use her flair once; he was a stammering, stuttering idiot), she slung her bag over her shoulder (a lovely leather satchel, given to her by one of her wonderful sisters) and walked back towards the complex.
At least it was only cold and not snowing or raining today. At least it was the weekend.