Late, but nearly there!

I've just finished the (almost) final edit of "Late". Here's a little preview to keep you amused.

The door hissed, a whisper that shimmered down the short corridor, and clicked shut with a sharp sound that was just on the edge of hearing. She was alone. Again. It wasn’t the first time. She was often the last to leave, preferring to muster the effort to finish her marking at school rather than lug a bag of books home: they would only sit staring accusingly until she dealt with them. But, as the silence fell around her like a cloak, part of her wished she was going home now too. It always felt so different here after everyone had gone.

The school was tiny by most people’s standards: two classrooms, a staff room and office, and a toilet block. All the rooms except one classroom branched off from a rectangular corridor that multi-tasked as a cloakroom and led to the main entrance. The cheerful colours of the butterfly-themed display- primary in every sense- seemed false as darkness fell, like heavy make-up on a wizened face. Which in a way, she thought, it was. The school was well over one hundred years old and, even though it had the necessary updates, didn’t wear them happily. The interactive whiteboard, blank and silent since the children had left hours before, hung embarrassedly between two original chimney breasts. The fireplaces had been boxed in long ago, but the mantelpieces made it easy to visualise how they must once have looked. The windows, high and arched, let in light but not life- no distractions allowed here! She listened to the car outside start up and watched the flash of headlights sweep a gentle glow past the tall windows before it drove away. Too late now.