Post by keegan jack slayter on Sept 29, 2010 0:36:55 GMT -5
What good was it being the Flying Instructor if you didn't get in some extreme quidditch practice every now and again? That was Keegan's philosophy on the situation, and here he was at the quidditch pitch, zipping around in the air, zig-zaging through the dusk. The air felt good, just like it always did when he had free flying time like this. Despite how much he loved his job (hell, who wouldn't love riding around on a broomstick all day, teaching the whole mechanisms and mechanics of the concept?), sometimes it was better to pretend like he didn't have it, and to immerse himself in the sense of freedom that flying gave.
Really, Flying Instructor wasn't all what it was cracked up to be. Here, he thought he would be teaching the kids all the tips, tricks, twists, and neat little quirks about flying. At least, that was what his old professor had done all those years ago. Alas, schooling systems were changing, and they wanted a more "textbook" approach to everything nowadays. Whatever happened to practice makes perfect? If anything, that statement would certainly apply to flying lessons, wouldn't it? Still, Keegan found himself standing in front of his class, reading the kids instructions out of a manual about how to hold your broomstick. He just couldn't believe it.
So, the obvious option to a frustrating day at work was to be out flying around, remembering that this was how flying should actually be taught. Unfortunately for Keegan, the dusk was slowly turning into night. It was getting harder and harder to see exactly where he was flying. This was always the part of flying he hated: having to stop. Slowly (so as not to randomly swerve into one of the quidditch stands or anything else in the air) he began his descent back to the squishy green grass. Keegan touched ground and started jogging over to the little shed where all of the extra equipment went. His hoodie was laying on one of the benches and so he picked it up and pulled it over his head. In doing so, for the ten seconds in which he struggled to get the damn thing over his head, he saw a person walking near him in the distance. "Who could that be now?" Keeg thought to himself, seeing as how when night came around, students were usually stuck inside the castle. Not that that ever stopped them from sneaking out anyway.
TAG: none.
MUSIC: death cab for cutie.
OUTFIT: here.
WORDS: 411
