This morning as I was arriving for work (a few minutes late), RW, a history teacher, brushed by me looking harried and carrying an enormous paper mache zebra. I said hello and he looked back apologetically and I'm pretty sure he said shop and swap. He mumbled more things I couldn't hear as he disappeared down the hall and I felt a wave of regret for having been so poisonous with him yesterday when he tried to convince me to sing with his band. Something was wrong with me yesterday; I might have been possessed. But I'm over it now and although I still don't want to sing with RW's band, I really do want to know why he was carrying an almost life sized paper mache zebra. However I was scheduled to invigilate an exam and couldn't follow him. Tomorrow I'm going to show up for work on time and trade RW one song for the story behind that zebra.
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2 comments:
You can't just go around writing things in blood all the time, you know.
That's a very good point, sharp enough to draw blood. xioxio
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