My high school English teacher was phenomenal. He was an incredible educator, and I still keep in touch with him whenever possible. He projected an air of quiet dignity and a little severity - Minerva MacGonnigal if she were a baritone. His voice was low, deadpan, and always serious, and he was my favorite teacher ever.
One day, my mother and I found his old blog, and on it was a photo of him as a sophomore in college. The clean-cut 40-something man in spectacles and a tie had been a fucking goth. I’m talking full-on Robert Smith… black hair in dangerous spikes, black eyeshadow, powdered-white skin, and tall black boots. The photo shows him lounging dramatically in an overstuffed armchair, tenting his fingers and giving a death glare to the camera. On his left is a pile of stuffed animals.
It is my favorite photo to ever exist.