The scribbles on the board make little sense to me right now.
I hear words being spoken, but I can’t seem to make out the meaning.
My eyes shift and are caught on a scrap of paper. Its crumpled perfection amuses me.
A strand of my hair comes loose. I have to fix it now.
The hustle and bustle of the quiet classroom throws distractions at me from every direction.
The sound of words directed towards me pulls me back.
“Can you give us the answer to number four?”
“Umm, I… I…”
wish I had focused.

Talk story

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