Homeostasis

A true(ish) story for @oistar :

I can still hear it. We were busy with double Latin or something in the classroom next to Ms Visagie's.

I realise now how brave she must have been. Or desperate for a job. High-heels, a neat little frock and far too much makeup were never going to fit in with a culture of fifteens, elevens and sixes for the most deserving of us.

The bang of a desk-lid. The howl. The staccato presto down the red-polished quarry-tiles all the way to the admin offices.

We never saw her again. Several teachers took turns with all the caning. Some of them reportedly laughed too. It was absurd to imagine teenage boys sitting quietly at their desks, books at the ready and bags stowed neatly out of the aisles, awaiting her arrival. And the signal from the desk-lid that started the barrage of paper darts.