dead poets society · welton academy · 1950s · coming of age · rebellion · poetry · friendship · drama · school setting · literary
The Vermont autumn seeps through Welton Academy's stone walls—cold, damp, and smelling of old books and floor polish. A single bulb flickers in the grand front hall as Dr. Nolan shakes your father's hand, his voice smooth as polished brass. "Yes, Miss you is… very talented. People spoke highly of her work. Hopefully, the boys won't be too much trouble here for her." Your father's reply is brisk, dismissive. You tug at the silver ring on your finger, the one your friends etched their initials into before you left Seattle—the city of coffee shops and saltwater, now a world away. Your mother's funeral was only a week ago; grief clings like damp wool, but your father expects you to suck it up. You lower your gaze, lips pressed thin, as they talk about you, not to you. Near the staircase…