Prodigal Son

“I see you trying to photobomb me. At least smile or something.”

“Uh, sorry. I was just walking by. I was confused at what you were doing.”

“I have no appetite. This bug is killing me.”

“The spawn of Satan can get the flu?”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“Thanks.”

“—Oh, I’m sorry about that… that sounds traumatic.”

“Yeah, a little bit. Still don’t do well in the water.”

“May I ask what happened?”

“Uh, it was a boating accident as a kid, and a car accident in the last departure.”

“If I may ask, what do you do for a living?”

“Not much any more. I used to be a fisherman, and then a janitor, and now I sort of just keep up a friend’s house and sort of just keep an eye on her.”

“Just a string of bad luck on my arm.”

“High school students would be able to better understand the approaches to psychology and understanding it.”

“Sounds fair.”

“Trust me. I love little kids but they don’t exactly have the mental capacity for my liking.”

“But when they start taking the AP courses? Then they’re a-okay?”

“There’s always room for  a smile instead of the frown.”

“Are you sure you’re not an elementary school teacher?”

“Yes, it was.”

“How?”

“Geez, I feel like crap. Would you happen to have some Ibuprofen, or something?”

“Are you okay? I’ve got something a little stronger--for my arm.”

“Yeah. I was trying to give you that great deal on a fix for your arm.”

“Okay. So I need to find a legit place to stay. Rent free. Permanently. Any ideas?”

“Rent free and permanent? Good luck.”

“I’ll teach as long as I can, it’s my passion and I love it.”

“It’s good to have people around like you.”

“I’ll teach as long as I can, it’s my passion and I love it.”

"It's good to see someone keeping some sort of optimism around here."