Once a long time ago I had a neurotic teacher. She would shout at the children and as she shouted she would go red in the face and a strange flap would puff out on her neck. But perhaps the strange flap was the reason she shouted. Why is it here of all places that I remember her?	I can recall more agreeable women. Grandmother sitting at her sewing machine.		The noise of the machine stopped. She tilted her head, blinks and threads the needle.
Hey. Seagull.