I'm a student in high school. I'm in a classroom taking a test. In fact everyone in the school is taking this test. I'm not finished, but I'm bored and want to get up and walk around. So I do just that. I walk right out of the classroom.
After about ten or fifteen seconds of walking in the hallway, a proctor catches up to me and walks along side me. His pale and blond features are in direct contrast to his all-black outfit. He believes that I'm walking to the bathroom, so he's accompanying me, and I'm supposed to walk with him. This is the unspoken understanding between us.
Finally he stops in front of another classroom. I'm confused -- I thought we were walking to the bathroom. But I decide to enter the classroom as if this was my destination all along. Then I see an alcove in the far wall. That must be where the bathroom is. So I walk over to it.
I encounter a friendly blond girl wearing a pink sweatsuit. She hands me a form to fill out. In order to use the bathroom I have to first fill out the form. I have a pencil with one of those wedge-shaped erasers stuck on the end. And that's a good thing, because I can't seem to write my last name correctly. I write it wrong, erase it, write it wrong again, erase it, etc. This is embarrassing.
The girl is nice, though. She places her right hand in my left hand, making it even harder for me to focus long enough to write all the letters of my name in the correct order. I pull my hand away gently to erase the name yet one more time. Then I cautiously put my hand in hers and try to write once more.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment