The Man Who Taught Tomorrow
The rain in Los Angeles didn't wash things clean. It just made the grime slicker. I sat in my classroom on Venice Boulevard, staring at the equation on the chalkboard like it was a dead man's face. I'd been staring at it for twenty minutes. The cough had been building in my chest all day, a wet, rattling thing that I swallowed down between sips of black coffee from a dented thermos. "Mr....
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