Flour Babies

So, there is a class where students are very troublesome children. They don’t care about studying, they don’t care about discipline—they’re basically charming troublemakers who just started living up to their potential earlier than others. Their teacher, Mr. Cartwright, understands this perfectly—he’s a cynic and a bit of a troll, and that’s what makes him great. Also present: a principal who can extract a useful lesson from any of the kids’ “issues,” a teacher who sits firmly on aspirin because she’s afraid of the children, a missing father who loved to whistle, a nerdy boy who reads in French and is generally great, and, of course, the KA-BUUM! at the end that everyone had been waiting for so long.

Among all this stands out—above all by height—Martin Simon, a giant boy, a star of the football team.
And then they are given each a bag of flour—these bags must be cared for for three weeks. The doll must not get dirty, must not lose or gain weight, and so on.

And then the most amusing part begins: the three weeks that show these children from a very unexpected side.
Someone’s character wakes up, someone finds a business streak. And someone will find an answer to a question that has tormented them for a long time.
Flour dolls are simply dolls, and when the time comes, you just have to step over them. And keep living—until you understand that your time has also come, and you can fold the sail.