IT JUST HAPPENED
She was always there. She was a cooing dove, she was you and
I’s dreams. With his unquestionable prowess to judge human character –the class
teacher- had made them share a desk. Growing up is always a challenge.
He would sit next to her, pubescence announcing itself all over
his face. Her flimsly blue school dress leaving nothing to imagination… His
fickle mind would soar. Soar to heights higher the mountains his civics teacher
spoke of. Higher than Kilimanjaro and Everest mountains…
He noticed, he noticed that she had had an accident that was
making her chest swell. The accident, a malfunction
of nature, left her with a long lasting condition of a swelling chest. SHE
TRIED HER BEST TO HIDE IT.
Class seven was a mix of a T junction, fly over, round and about
combined. He could no longer join the school choir. His once mellow soprano was
now a rusty blue band tin that could not even be used to fashion toys. A school
term earlier, he had drawn a line on his school desk. A perfect survey demarcation
that rang louder that Donald Trump,s wall. (He of mexico-USA border wall)
As acne further land- scaped his face, he kept noting that,
she kept crossing the boundary he had fashioned on the desk (he never got a
Title dead for his land). She had a way of making her legs cross the demarcation
with her legs, and warming his legs they were. It always happened, that moment he tried to
steal into his polythene bag (the bag that had everything apart from nuclear war
heads complete with authentic launch codes and heat seeking missiles... ) mostly
when their teacher was delving into the topic of adolescence…)
He must have been a narcissist, a sadist –so I believe-,
Why, why on earth would an an accident that made your desk mate develop ever
growing boils on her chest make your
pair of blue school shorts bulge ?iT JUST HAPPENED
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