I’ve been reading some about flash fiction and decided to play.

The November observation was going to happen, already had for most teachers. Betty was still fretting. She’d broken the “rules” again. A first year was not supposed to step outside the bounds. She supposed she must be at the bottom of her supervisor’s list. Well, maybe she’d keep her job through the winter holiday.

Howling winds whipped the once-stylish hair into her eyes and then back across her cheek. She finally sat, exhausted. The knowledge that she’d never find the door brought up a list of things she wished she’d done, said. Betty was not on that list.