My Cardboard Balcony

Strict and stern, Nathaniel stood in front of the class wearing a soot-colored suit and a scowl across his wrinkled face. It was his thirtieth year teaching, and the students seemed quieter and quieter with each new term. Now, their eyes was averted, though not on their cellphones; Nathaniel had confiscated them all on the first day. But despite not having their little screens, they would not look their teacher in the eyes.