The Hand

Our class was interrupted by visitors
wishing to make an announcement.
We sat listening attentively
as the girls mumbled and stumbled through,
taking equal turns at certain points throughout.
Then my focus was interrupted as
I felt a hand in my hair
gently stroking the golden brown strands
and running its fingers
through my curls.
And having your hair touched and played with
is one of the nicest feelings you can experience
but my professionalism forced me to make a confused and slightly upset face,
slowly turning towards the owner of the hand
and meeting the gaze of the others in the room
all watching to see what I would do
and as I tried to pull away
the hand followed me
and the children burst into fits of giggles
and Samuel tucked his hand away and said nothing.