The classroom

The classroom was silent.
Afternoon sun filtered through the dusty windows, painting long strips of light across the wooden desks. The air smelled of chalk and old wood.
She stood by the first desk.
Black hair pulled tightly into a neat bun, a few strands escaping and resting against her neck. The white shirt with rolled-up sleeves was only slightly unbuttoned at the collar — just enough to reveal the soft line of her collarbone and the shadow between her breasts. The red plaid mini skirt barely covered the curve of her hips. Black knee-high socks and shiny high-heeled pumps completed the picture, as if someone had accidentally left a camera rolling in an empty school.