Prompt

He was called a Sailor. Her dark red hair was tied with an elastic band at the back of her head, and her pink shirt (faggot, Bob hissed through his teeth) smelled of expensive cologne for a kilometer. Tall, broad in the shoulders, clean-shaven. Young enough to give someone a hard time. He walked along the tables and smiled as he watched the children munching an omelette with both cheeks under the menacing gaze of the teachers. Burnt. Again, fuck your mother. Only no one will tell the Sailor abou