Short Story - Busy
Rain trickles down the windows. The kind of drizzle you get in England. Not enough for you to get wet, but enough to be exciting. My head turns back towards the board. Mr McKinney drones on about why everyone should care about how rivers are formed. Words drop in and out. Erosion, pebbles, banks. Quick glance at the clock. Still 25 minutes to go. I should have been making notes for the past half hour, but I’ll catch up later. That leaves me with 25 minutes to go.
There must be something fun to do. The silence limits me. If I was to stack glue sticks or click a pen, he would hear me. I glance at the clock. Two more minutes have passed. I let out a sigh. I stare at Mr McKinney. I wonder what decisions led him to this moment in his life. What decisions have led him to this? At what part did he decide, I’m going to be a teacher and teach Geography here, in a stuffy classroom in the middle of nowhere. I’m reminded of just how warm it is in here. The weatherman said it would be mild today. Yeah, right. The heat makes the chairs even worse. A deep blue appearance disguises the stiffness of the chair itself. Rigid. You don’t realise until you are in one these lessons. I wonder what other things I haven’t noticed. Like how loud the breathing is of the baboon next to me. He’s a big lad and he also looks as if he would want to be anywhere but here as well. There is a constant drone of the fan in the corner. Its blades rotating like every other fan ever made. As if hearing me, Mr McKinney moves to switch off the fan. Great, now we really will boil to death. I adjust my posture and my seating position. It’s a miracle he hasn’t noticed all the slacking I’ve been doing. My heart is just not in it lately. But I said that 6 months ago and I thought it would be sorted by now. No, I can’t think about this. I mustn’t. I glance at the clock again, only five minutes have passed.