She stood at the chalkboard and her body froze. No one said a word until she turned around and we could see in her expression that she was there, but she really wasn’t. The question had taken her away from us. She was at a distance from the room though she stood right there at the chalkboard.
Laura Helouvry
She stood in front of the class. The old classroom was filled with noise of feet shuffling and whispering, she thought she even heard some suppressed laughter. A boy in the first row lifted his hand: “Miss, what is the word for toilet paper under your shoe in Russian?”
Silke Seßler
writing’s on the wall buddy
how we move into the future
is exactly how we failed in the past
time is cyclical, call me cynical,
i’m sickly ill
like a chalkboard, our memories are easily erased
by a lowliest student in the loneliest place
Matt m.
Thomas wrote on the chalkboard.
ewyirywnfiwebfi
random jibber jabber my sister told me not to do lol
ewyirywnfiwebfi
Chalkboards are usually known to be black, but some are pine green in color.
A Funny Gal
He is nails on a chalkboard. He is like a car crash. I can’t look away, no matter how badly I want to. Even though my body is the one that ends up mangled in the wreckage. I can’t breathe.
Haley
it’s so dark here; i don’t know what is going on i need some light but i could not find or just candle to see some hope! give me a power; i can’t see any thing however myself!! woow what is this darkness that so much!! is it a new world here!! i need answer!! wait wait i can find some thing white it’s chalk! what could i do with this in this dark world!? look i can draw line! ohh! it’s weird okay let try to write any word that i need! (hope, trust, light, strength…) you know what all those words are moving and create for me a road that i could see through the color of the chalk!! woow now i understand i look like so small!! you know i realize that i’m on a big, black chalkboard…!
Roumaissaa FERHI
As he entered the classroom, everyone stopped and turned to stare. Ms. Griswold was at the front, outlining today’s lesson plan on the board. His heart stopped, as he noticed the only open desk was directly next to that Heather bitch he met at the party over the summer.
Macey
The teacher stood at the chalkboard writing something all the other students could see while all she saw was an empty board.
J. L. Sullens
She traced the dust on the chalkboard ledge. She couldn’t look at him. “I dunno.”
“I think you do.” He said it gently, not accusingly. Like he knew her answering her own question was important.
A chalkboard is a black substance that retains a material known as chalk that may vary in size, color and shape. Also chalkboards were commonly used until the 2000s by teachers.
Nate
Nice to meet you, my name’s Chalk. My strengths include writing and drawing stick people. I don’t know what I am made of, but I draw really well on chalkboards. Chalkboards are also one of my strengths. Actually, I am the inventor of chalkboards. My full name is Chalk Board.
Chalk Board
black
write
white letters
front of classroom
messages
old school
teacher
students
math
symbols
alphabet
nails on it create screeching
Kim Eggert
I just remembered the times when I was studying in the school or university, I don’t know exactly, we’re using those shits.
blabla
Chalkboards are becoming a thing of the past. I haven’t been in a classroom in over 8 years, but I was recently in an elementary school and I saw a new gadget. Wow. Now that is something I can honestly say I would not see the end of. But yes, it’s true! I like the new chalkboards. They are cleaner.
“Jimmy,” said Ms. Carter, the teacher of the second grade, “Please right the sum of 4 and 8 on the chalkboard.”
Jimmy stood up and walked over to the large, black board on the wall, and wrote down the math problem.
Emma Reed
The chalk dust scatters around me as the shriek of the chalk whips across the room like a gunshot. I scribble the answer to the problem as fast as I can and flounce down triumphantly into my seat. One point for me, none for the world.
Sparklespirit
his teeth pressed against my skin like chalk being pressed against the board. the pain was deep, but the yearning for his touch was much deeper; so I let the pain soak into me and with everything I had, I loved him. and now chalkboards remind me of his touch.
Melanie Cruz
chalkboards. they’re annoying and make too much noise, but their use goes back to the classics of teaching and literature developed in the arms of those with a chalk and an eraser that just got too much dust everywhere. chalkboards are nostalgic to those pursuing teaching and just love teaching others, chalkboards.
Melanie Cruz
i love chalkboards they are so fun and re usable you can write and then erase
I walk up to the chalkboard to write the answer to 23*65. When I tripped on someone’s foot everyone laughed and I got back up and went to the board and I wrote 1,495. Is that right or wrong?
Someone Unknown to you
The dust from the chalk floated off the board. It looked like magic in the air. Like the teacher was trying to put a spell on the students by simply erasing what she wrote. The chalkboard was more like a place to step into, to disappear for even a moment as the teacher wrote a question for the students to answer and quickly erased her example as for them to come up with their own. Little Tommy in the back row put out his hand hoping to catch some of the dust, hoping that the magic from the leftover words would fall on his hands and he could write about the time he felt like he could be anything he ever wanted to be in the world. Being all of ten years old he felt limited in his choices, though he wouldn’t use the word limited, he just knew inside there didn’t seem to be much for him to choose from. He didn’t want to put down a fake superhero, that felt silly and childish. And even though he was still a child, due to the circumstances of his upbrining he had gone through more in his ten years of life than most people ever due in their whole life time. A loss of a parent, moving schools six times in three years, almost ending up in the system, which he wasn’t sure what that meant but he felt like being in a system met being without his siblings and that made him feel sad and lonely. What he wished he could be was someone who could bring people back from the dead, someone who could breathe life back into the mouth of his mother who he saw dies in her bed as he stood back watching his father cry for the first time. He wanted to bring life back as it uses to be before his mother left them all to fend for themselves. Could catching the chalk dust help him figure out the answer to the question. Tommy was a serious student even though his grades were never the best and his attention was not always fully there in the classroom, he did take school seriously yet he also had much bigger experiences that pulled him from giving his all to the assignments of the day, the conversations between his teacher and classmates and even from participating fully on the playground. Tommy wanted to return to feeling like a kid but he realized those days were long gone, lost when he let go of his mom the night before his 10th birthday. Now almost 8 months later he wonders what he would be or do that could change the world, his world, a world around him if he could do or be anything.
a fox, its broken leg dangling by a tendon on the road, screaming
as it drags its shattered body to the ditch
but your unbroken nails write love letters to the dark, the flat
Rowan Springle
I don’t hate the sound like everyone else. Nails on a chalkboard’ is always said to be the worst sound imaginable — like a horrific screeching that shatters your mind. I find it rather pleasant.
I remember the feeling of being called up to the chalkboard at school, writing the answers in front of the whole class, praying not to slip up and make the awful screeching sound of that earned collective groans. It was always a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment that I would walk up there, proud to be chosen, shy to be in the spotlight, and terrified of looking stupid. How these little lessons in your youth shape who you will be.
papillon
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KamaNob
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KamaNob
He walked in the room and the smell of the old chalkboard hit him like a train.
The faint remains of a few words could be made out
on the chalkboard. They were written over equations
and theories of where we are to fit in the world.
Onto pages they were copied, and into minds the seeped
while the students listened, while their minds wandered
through the window to the world where the birds made nothing
that could be expressed so elegantly on a chalkboard.
Another class come through before the old writing was removed
the sit and admire the scribblings left by an unsteady, excited hand
the symbols meant so much to those that just left, but to those
seated now in the lecture theatre they were something of mystery.
During the 1800s, schoolchildren used something called a slate for writing. A slate was like a chalkboard, only smaller.
Laura Ingalls Fan
I could feel her fingernails on my back. Racing against each ridge, attempting to probe my spine as if she were trying to extract something from my bones. The sensation set my teeth on the brink, made the stuff in my veins turn into a personal arctic ocean. I felt shriveled up and petrified like an old tree. But the worst was the noise they made. Like my body was, indeed, an outdated, makeshift chalkboard.
Belinda Roddie
UKUELE
He walked off stage with a grin from ear to ear and his ukulele. He cocked one eyebrow at her. Sara desperately did not want to smile back. Baker was jubilant. And annoyingly handsome. She was still fuming. “Don’t bother coming the cowboy with me Sonny Jim” she said, meaning it. But as the words slipped from her mouth she realised that he had indeed come the cowboy well and truly in his usually flamboyant fashion. She was powerless against his charm. God, she said, I am definitely not getting a drink with you.
Its like all of life. The most monumental events all come down to a series of tiny insignificant moments. Wendy would never have been able to guess that those few scribbled lines on a chalkboard in a convent school on the border of Chile and Peru would lead her to knowing what she now knew.
Hello!
She stood at the chalkboard and her body froze. No one said a word until she turned around and we could see in her expression that she was there, but she really wasn’t. The question had taken her away from us. She was at a distance from the room though she stood right there at the chalkboard.
She stood in front of the class. The old classroom was filled with noise of feet shuffling and whispering, she thought she even heard some suppressed laughter. A boy in the first row lifted his hand: “Miss, what is the word for toilet paper under your shoe in Russian?”
writing’s on the wall buddy
how we move into the future
is exactly how we failed in the past
time is cyclical, call me cynical,
i’m sickly ill
like a chalkboard, our memories are easily erased
by a lowliest student in the loneliest place
Thomas wrote on the chalkboard.
random jibber jabber my sister told me not to do lol
Chalkboards are usually known to be black, but some are pine green in color.
He is nails on a chalkboard. He is like a car crash. I can’t look away, no matter how badly I want to. Even though my body is the one that ends up mangled in the wreckage. I can’t breathe.
it’s so dark here; i don’t know what is going on i need some light but i could not find or just candle to see some hope! give me a power; i can’t see any thing however myself!! woow what is this darkness that so much!! is it a new world here!! i need answer!! wait wait i can find some thing white it’s chalk! what could i do with this in this dark world!? look i can draw line! ohh! it’s weird okay let try to write any word that i need! (hope, trust, light, strength…) you know what all those words are moving and create for me a road that i could see through the color of the chalk!! woow now i understand i look like so small!! you know i realize that i’m on a big, black chalkboard…!
As he entered the classroom, everyone stopped and turned to stare. Ms. Griswold was at the front, outlining today’s lesson plan on the board. His heart stopped, as he noticed the only open desk was directly next to that Heather bitch he met at the party over the summer.
The teacher stood at the chalkboard writing something all the other students could see while all she saw was an empty board.
She traced the dust on the chalkboard ledge. She couldn’t look at him. “I dunno.”
“I think you do.” He said it gently, not accusingly. Like he knew her answering her own question was important.
A chalkboard is a black substance that retains a material known as chalk that may vary in size, color and shape. Also chalkboards were commonly used until the 2000s by teachers.
Nice to meet you, my name’s Chalk. My strengths include writing and drawing stick people. I don’t know what I am made of, but I draw really well on chalkboards. Chalkboards are also one of my strengths. Actually, I am the inventor of chalkboards. My full name is Chalk Board.
black
write
white letters
front of classroom
messages
old school
teacher
students
math
symbols
alphabet
nails on it create screeching
I just remembered the times when I was studying in the school or university, I don’t know exactly, we’re using those shits.
Chalkboards are becoming a thing of the past. I haven’t been in a classroom in over 8 years, but I was recently in an elementary school and I saw a new gadget. Wow. Now that is something I can honestly say I would not see the end of. But yes, it’s true! I like the new chalkboards. They are cleaner.
“Jimmy,” said Ms. Carter, the teacher of the second grade, “Please right the sum of 4 and 8 on the chalkboard.”
Jimmy stood up and walked over to the large, black board on the wall, and wrote down the math problem.
The chalk dust scatters around me as the shriek of the chalk whips across the room like a gunshot. I scribble the answer to the problem as fast as I can and flounce down triumphantly into my seat. One point for me, none for the world.
his teeth pressed against my skin like chalk being pressed against the board. the pain was deep, but the yearning for his touch was much deeper; so I let the pain soak into me and with everything I had, I loved him. and now chalkboards remind me of his touch.
chalkboards. they’re annoying and make too much noise, but their use goes back to the classics of teaching and literature developed in the arms of those with a chalk and an eraser that just got too much dust everywhere. chalkboards are nostalgic to those pursuing teaching and just love teaching others, chalkboards.
i love chalkboards they are so fun and re usable you can write and then erase
_____
/ o o \ SNOWMAN
\ — /
\ ____ /
\ / \ /
\ / 0 \ /
\___0__/
/ 0 \
/ \
\_______/
I walk up to the chalkboard to write the answer to 23*65. When I tripped on someone’s foot everyone laughed and I got back up and went to the board and I wrote 1,495. Is that right or wrong?
The dust from the chalk floated off the board. It looked like magic in the air. Like the teacher was trying to put a spell on the students by simply erasing what she wrote. The chalkboard was more like a place to step into, to disappear for even a moment as the teacher wrote a question for the students to answer and quickly erased her example as for them to come up with their own. Little Tommy in the back row put out his hand hoping to catch some of the dust, hoping that the magic from the leftover words would fall on his hands and he could write about the time he felt like he could be anything he ever wanted to be in the world. Being all of ten years old he felt limited in his choices, though he wouldn’t use the word limited, he just knew inside there didn’t seem to be much for him to choose from. He didn’t want to put down a fake superhero, that felt silly and childish. And even though he was still a child, due to the circumstances of his upbrining he had gone through more in his ten years of life than most people ever due in their whole life time. A loss of a parent, moving schools six times in three years, almost ending up in the system, which he wasn’t sure what that meant but he felt like being in a system met being without his siblings and that made him feel sad and lonely. What he wished he could be was someone who could bring people back from the dead, someone who could breathe life back into the mouth of his mother who he saw dies in her bed as he stood back watching his father cry for the first time. He wanted to bring life back as it uses to be before his mother left them all to fend for themselves. Could catching the chalk dust help him figure out the answer to the question. Tommy was a serious student even though his grades were never the best and his attention was not always fully there in the classroom, he did take school seriously yet he also had much bigger experiences that pulled him from giving his all to the assignments of the day, the conversations between his teacher and classmates and even from participating fully on the playground. Tommy wanted to return to feeling like a kid but he realized those days were long gone, lost when he let go of his mom the night before his 10th birthday. Now almost 8 months later he wonders what he would be or do that could change the world, his world, a world around him if he could do or be anything.
a fox, its broken leg dangling by a tendon on the road, screaming
as it drags its shattered body to the ditch
but your unbroken nails write love letters to the dark, the flat
I don’t hate the sound like everyone else. Nails on a chalkboard’ is always said to be the worst sound imaginable — like a horrific screeching that shatters your mind. I find it rather pleasant.
I remember the feeling of being called up to the chalkboard at school, writing the answers in front of the whole class, praying not to slip up and make the awful screeching sound of that earned collective groans. It was always a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment that I would walk up there, proud to be chosen, shy to be in the spotlight, and terrified of looking stupid. How these little lessons in your youth shape who you will be.
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57c8 online onlineo gel
onlineo online df
57c8 online hinta suomessa
He walked in the room and the smell of the old chalkboard hit him like a train.
The faint remains of a few words could be made out
on the chalkboard. They were written over equations
and theories of where we are to fit in the world.
Onto pages they were copied, and into minds the seeped
while the students listened, while their minds wandered
through the window to the world where the birds made nothing
that could be expressed so elegantly on a chalkboard.
Another class come through before the old writing was removed
the sit and admire the scribblings left by an unsteady, excited hand
the symbols meant so much to those that just left, but to those
seated now in the lecture theatre they were something of mystery.
During the 1800s, schoolchildren used something called a slate for writing. A slate was like a chalkboard, only smaller.
I could feel her fingernails on my back. Racing against each ridge, attempting to probe my spine as if she were trying to extract something from my bones. The sensation set my teeth on the brink, made the stuff in my veins turn into a personal arctic ocean. I felt shriveled up and petrified like an old tree. But the worst was the noise they made. Like my body was, indeed, an outdated, makeshift chalkboard.
UKUELE
He walked off stage with a grin from ear to ear and his ukulele. He cocked one eyebrow at her. Sara desperately did not want to smile back. Baker was jubilant. And annoyingly handsome. She was still fuming. “Don’t bother coming the cowboy with me Sonny Jim” she said, meaning it. But as the words slipped from her mouth she realised that he had indeed come the cowboy well and truly in his usually flamboyant fashion. She was powerless against his charm. God, she said, I am definitely not getting a drink with you.
Its like all of life. The most monumental events all come down to a series of tiny insignificant moments. Wendy would never have been able to guess that those few scribbled lines on a chalkboard in a convent school on the border of Chile and Peru would lead her to knowing what she now knew.