As I crawled into bed to go to sleep that night, the ease of summer slowed fade into the responsibility of the school year. As the alarm clock rings promptly at 7:15 the next morning, all traces of summer vanished into September's doldrums. Once again, it was September! To most of us was the beginning of the school year that morning and to some of us was just and ordinary day. The air was crisp and cool, the trees exploded with brightly colored leaves and beautiful roses lying on bushes with their open petals and very temptationable, to want to pluck and smell them till the end. Walking through those flowers and seeing all those great combination of colors and in between with "Sophia Loren" rose, just indeed, just as beautiful as the actress herself... attracted you to get one and hold it in your hand.
I was just a few minutes away from school and hoping that I would meet great teachers or even the same ones I had the previous years. Walking through the big school door I see bunch of students who seemed to be so excited their first day of school. Still holding my pretty rose while walking on the long hallway to get to my class. Long waits on the first day of school, as usual I took a corner edge and set in my day dreaming of what teacher I will have. For some reason or another certain we are drawn to particular teachers while other students are fonder of others. In my life I had studied under three memorable teachers. Teachers with which I was able to connect, to laugh, to share my misgivings were they would deserve to hold the particular Sophia Loren rose where some of them would never do. While I may have been close with each of these teachers, it is very clear, in retrospect, that each was very unique, and represented an entirely different class of teacher.
The teacher that stands out most in my head was my private English Tutor, called "Kozeta" She had a liberal arts background and majored in creative fiction and non fiction writing from Marseille,...
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