Lori’s Bio:

Lori Strauss began taking a writing class in 2007 a year after her third daughter was born. She has been raising children full time since 2000. As a mother of three young daughters and the wife of a corporate real estate executive she needed a creative outlet. “I have this constant urge to express myself through writing. It continually gnaws at me. I needed direction. Finding a class was the best solution.” Every year as her children get older their schedules change and she attempts to make writing a priority. Before Lori became a homemaker she taught elementary school for a brief period. She also worked as an assistant in a variety of entertainment companies in Los Angeles. Lori has a Bachelors degree in Political Science from Loyola Marymount University. While an undergraduate student she interned in the White House during George H.W. Bush’s administration. In 1999 she earned a teaching credential from California State University, Northridge. Lori is a leader of two Girl Scout troops, and a member of a book club that has been together for several years. She is an avid reader of all sorts of subjects. She resides in the Los Angeles area with her husband and daughters.

Last Friday

By Lori Strauss

Her feet hit the black asphalt making loud slaps against the hot surface. She hated being “it.” She tagged the fat kid, an easy target.

He was so pissed he couldn't think straight when he slammed the truck door shut. He adjusted the bundle in the pit of his arm and tripped on a sprinkler head as he crossed the crunchy crab grass.

The shrill sound of the bell triggered relief. She was ready to return to her classroom and listen to the teacher read “Tales of the Fourth Grade Nothing.” Sweat trickled down her neck. She needed to quench her thirst. The line at the fountain was ten people deep. She didn't have time.

He bounded up the stairs. He was so angry his hands shook while he attempted to unlock the door with his keys. She was in the kitchen scrubbing a Pyrex dish covered in overcooked sauce that turned into black gunk, hard to remove.

The class settled into their seats. The teacher announced that she was changing the afternoon routine. She told them to take out a sheet of paper for a pop math quiz on positive and negative integers. In an instant she was bothered, unsure of what came next.

She was putting all of her strength into scouring the dish. She wished she possessed the vigor to blot out the moment she decided to give him a chance. The black soot began to lift and sink down the drain. She was satisfied with the results and set the Pyrex in the drainer and turned off the faucet.

The paper monitor passed out the quiz. She got a lump in her throat. What's an integer?

She wanted to come out of her skin when he grabbed her throat from behind. His forceful fingers wrapped around her neck were intoxicated with rage. She felt her eyes bulge out of her head as he squeezed.

Her stomach began to hurt when she read the math word problem about the space shuttle and the time before lift off and the time after. How could time be negative or positive? It was something she could not comprehend.

He realized he was going to have to use the gun when her eyes fluttered back open. She was lying on the floor near the coffee table. She was trying to reach for something sitting near the edge. He couldn't believe she was able to move. He could've sworn he felt her spinal cord snap when he broke her neck.

She got up from her seat and reached for the work basket on the teacher's desk. She finished last. She hated finishing last. The principal opened the door to the classroom and requested the teacher come outside.

He decided to let her hold the framed picture of her daughter. After all, it was the least he could do for her now. Her grasp loosened and it fell to the floor. He picked it up and wiped the splattered blood off the frame. He looked at her daughter and wondered what the girl would think when she came home from school to find this mess. Then he cocked the pistol, put it in his mouth and pulled the trigger. 

She opened the heavy door to the office. The principal carried her backpack. She was surprised and embarrassed to see her father in his dirty uniform standing in the office. “Hi Daddy, I thought I was going to your house tomorrow. Mommy didn't say you were picking me up early today!”

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