One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight and that’s it, there aren’t any more bars on the window. There are four windows on the puke yellow green wall of the class; one each on the far ends of the class and two in the centre and so close to each other they looked like one large window.
It was general english class, I was sitting in a new spot today, but like was moved to the first bench by the teacher and somehow I was more distracted here. The class was fun but I couldn’t pay attention, I had to try hard to not stop listening to the teacher’s instructions. Her hair is sometimes super curly, like she spent a lot of time curling but they’re natural I think, maybe.
I remember the first year of college being scared of her, then I wasn’t scared of her very often and now I’m not as scared of her as I used to be. I remember her telling us many stories and the one of her trying to shave her brothers legs is one of the funniest.
She asked everybody to read a piece on nurses by Nisha Susan. Mark and make observations on the piece while you read; her voice dropped, drowned, and disappeared, the class felt sort of empty even though it was full, almost. For a brief period I drifted away from the human world, found myself floating away to the currents of thoughts from all around me.
I just felt sad, depressed, and psychotic enough to go on a killing spree, or kill myself. It was so dark, the black joke wanted to call the cops on me and send me away.