We’re about to get expelled and it’s going to be on Mikal. Principal Eggerton sniffed out the weak link as soon as we settled into the surplus cafeteria chairs facing his office. I watch him watching us through the glass door to his office, as if we’re in a precinct lineup. Craig slumps back in exaggerated boredom while Mikal remains a coiled spring on the edge of his seat. Eggerton is on the phone but he’s staring at Mikal; Mikal with falling into his eyes hair and sweat beading on his upper lip. Mikal is trying not to blink but he’s incessantly itching the thumb knuckle of his right hand with his right index finger. The skin is already cracked from eczema but he can’t stop and it’s raw and red and about to start bleeding and I want to jab him in the ribs to stop but I can’t because I’m frozen by what I see in Eggerton’s eyes. He’s out for blood.
infinte 8s
Resurrecting Time
Hello cursor. Hello screen. Hello random reader. Hello subscriber whose spring purge I managed to evade. I’ve debated the wisdom of resurrecting my musings after these many months of dormancy. Perhaps I have unwittingly arrived Read more…
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