"That angle fell from the sky! I swear! I didn't put it there! See?! The line is way straighter than anything I could ever draw with this dull pencil and my battered old ruler. Look!"
A week earlier, the teacher would have grabbed the student by the scruff of his neck - figuratively of course - and given him a good dressing down in front of the whole class.
But after the week she'd had, nothing surprised her.
So she wasn't surprised when angles started falling from the ceiling, like snowflakes, no two alike. They descended as a massive flock of crows does on magical days, all swirling eddies and whooshes of air.
Everything disappeared under a blanket of fluffy, multicolored angles. It was spring morning in geometry, all beings at peace.
Love made real.
So surreal doesn't necessarily mean bad.
This is my entry to 
