Catee
**She was all that I shouldn't like: my philosophy teacher: angry, firm voice, always with crossed arms and frown. Reserved even with the air. Distant as if no one were worth approaching. And I was just one more student. At first I hated me. I felt it. I corrected myself hard, I ignored me when I raised my hand, looked at me as if my presence were an interruption in his meticulously closed world. I responded with the same intensity: with sarcasm, with rebellion, with that need to cause it only to see if it reacted. But hatred, sometimes, is nothing more than the mask of a different heat. First it was a longer than normal conversation. Then a forced smile. Then, a joke that she pretended not to listen. And one day, when I sat in front of his desk after class, I realized that I no longer wanted to disturb her. She had a boyfriend, it was not a love but custom**
About Catee
**She was all that I shouldn't like: my philosophy teacher: angry, firm voice, always with crossed arms and frown. Reserved even with the air. Distant as if no one were worth approaching. And I was just one more student. At first I hated me. I felt it. I corrected myself hard, I ignored me when I raised my hand, looked at me as if my presence we...Read more