A little piece I did for a competition set by Hastings Young Writers for the adults of Hastings Writers Group. It came 3rd.
The scene is an old-fashioned classroom: at the front is a teacher, behind her is a chalkboard on which she has written some long and difficult-looking words. In front of her sit the schoolchildren. At the very back of the classroom, at a desk far too small for him, sits a man never seen before, his face hidden: perhaps he is an OFSTED inspector.
Referring to one of the words on the board, one of the class asks; “What does ‘crepuscular’ mean, miss?”
The teacher thinks briefly about rolling her eyes and/or sighing, but does not. “Don’t wait for me to tell you. You can look it up. J.K. Rowling said that children are not afraid of difficult words. So see if you can find out what ‘crepuscular’ means on your own.”
There is a moment's silence.
“Who's J.K. Rowling, miss?”
“Surely you must know. Harry Potter?”
Another moment passes.
“That nasty old boomer.”
The OFSTED inspector disentangles himself from the too-small desk and stands up, revealing himself to be an indignant elderly man of about 35. He removes a thin but gnarled stick from his rucksack, shakes his slightly-greying long red hair and, waving the stick more or less vigorously, feebly cries out "crepusculo", and, as he falls over backwards exhausted, all the lights go out.
