The Longest Hour of His Life
His knee jittered up and down as if some primitive rhythm was looping through his brain and no one else could hear it. ONE MINUTE fiction
From the Archive 2022. Oh, to be a teenager again! No, wait, on second thought…
He sat slumped in the hard chair, tapping his pencil anxiously on his notebook. The girl in the seat in front of him turned around and glared. “Do you mind!“
“Sorry,” he whispered. He stopped tapping.
His left knee jittered up and down, up and down as if some primitive rhythm was looping through his brain and no one else could hear it. The teacher just kept going on and on about something totally useless, tossing a piece of chalk from one hand to the other as he spoke, like some sort of lame juggler.
He flicked at a weed that was stuck to the cuff of his jeans, and scribbled a name on his notebook. Julie. Julie. Julie! He inhaled deeply, rolled his eyes and blew out a long breath. It was the longest hour of his life so far.
He pulled a few fuzz-balls off of the sleeve of his old sweater, looked at the clock, and began to think he’d made a terrible mistake.
I shoulda cut class. Why didn’t I cut class? Jeeez, is it really only 2:50? Will she still be waiting for me? I hope she waits for me. Please … please … please , Julie. Wait for me.
Ah, boy in love. Lost last brain cell. )))
Ah yes, those long school days of watching the clock tick in reverse, thinking about nothing other than ...
Well told, Sharron!