Drabble: Language Barriers
“I need you to look at these sentences and tell me how wrong they are.”
With a slow blink, Kenny takes in his colleague’s features, contorted in furious anger. He smooths a finger over the wing of the crane he’d been folding right before being interrupted, lips already tugging into a grin.
“Good afternoon, Professor Broflovski.” he says pleasantly, a picture of professionalism. “Are you having a good day?”
The look he receives in return could curdle milk.
“Oh, yes. Absolutely wonderful.” Kyle practically sneers. With more force that strictly necessary, he slams a folder down on Kenny’s desk, making his mug rattle. “I love the week when a third of my class decides to completely ignore my reading list, and turn in bloated essays - four hundred words over the word limit, mind you - that’s basically pretentious literary masturbation on the same three novels, all written by narcissistic alcoholics without a shred of compassion!”
The man really should be writing poetry. The eloquence would entertain the literature professor’s successors for years.
The redhead finally seems to run out of steam, collapsing on the single spare chair next to Kenny’s desk. “If they’re going to include pretentious Latin quotes, I want to know how wrong they are before I fight them on it.”
“You know, Professor.” the linguistics teacher remarks cheerfully, head resting in his palm. “I recall someone telling me that the worst thing an English Literature teacher can be is an elitist snob.”
Predictably, he gets a particularly scandalised glare for that.
“I’m not being a snob!” Kyle snaps. ”You don’t take my class to get to wallow in your comfort zone! You take my class to expand your damn horizons! To read something you wouldn’t have otherwise, and discover stories from different perspectives to yours!”
He takes a moment to catch his breath. It’s enough for Kenny’s eyes to wander, committing all the little details to memory.
“I’m not saying they are wrong for liking those books.” Kyle continues eventually, motioning to the folder with one hand. “Narcissistic alcoholic sociopaths write surprisingly good novels, and if that resonates with you, great! But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try and read something else too! Especially when it’s on the reading list!”
Kenny doesn’t bother hiding his amusement as he reaches for the folder. “I’ll have a look at them as soon I can, and will email any corrections over.”
His fellow teacher’s smile is grateful as he gets to his feet, rolling one strained shoulder back with a grunt. “Thanks, Kenny.”
Anything for you. “No worries, man.”
He busies himself with shuffling through the contents of the folder, sticking an obnoxiously bright pink reminder on the top page. When he glances back up, he finds Kyle staring at the assortment of origami animals scattered across his desk.
“…is that supposed to be a raccoon?”
“Yeah. My sister got me an advanced book for Christmas, I’m making my way through it.”
Kyle’s lips twitch at that. Carefully, delicately, he traces along the edge of the newest crane. “Cute.”
“Here.” Quickly, he plucks the crane off his desk, nudging it into Kyle’s palm. “To keep your overworked coffee mug company.”
Despite his promise, Kenny ends up returning the folder and his feedback in person.
Later, when Kyle reaches into his pocket for his keys, his fingers will brush against a folded piece of paper, hiding a single, barely legible sentence.
// Sunt tibi nates pulchrae //
(I blame this on an assorted number of enablers, but it was started by @townycod13, @kivea and @mysterikat - y'all need to go easier on people’s muses <3)
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