soft conversing and conversation
breathing cold air and occasional shivering
crinkling of papers and writing of ballpoint pens
smearing their ink over parallel lines.
uncomfortable seating position
and an inspirational lack.
nervous tapping feet
rattling my brain in my skull.
poetic sentence fragments left over from last night's
situational perfection.
wipe the dust from my hands,
lose last night on the paper.
ouch. takes me right back, that does. statistics exam, 13th of June 2000, after i'd spent a good deal of the previous night crying for the first time in years. alas, i had to wait until the cold, hard numbers were out of the way to express myself.
