Opinion | Prittstift – NRC

It’s the first Valentine’s Day after my recent breakup. As I walk into the classroom where I will be teaching theater for the next hour, one of the students hands me a craft of a pink heart: “For you, teacher.” When the kids storm out of class after class, I get a text from a friend asking how my day is. I text her back that I’m fine, that my valentine is 6 this year, wears glasses with unbreakable temples and just ate half of his prittpen.

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