OUCH OH FUCK THIS HURTS.
Ow. Ow ow ow.
I’m watching my green pencil role back from where I pushed it on the desk. My callused fingers touch the edge and push off once again. Rolling.
Underneath my toes tap wild wild. Click and the pencil tips passed the edge and touches the metal beneath.
The grey nail polish has chipped off all but the pinky on my left, pointer on the right. Hang nails border all and I clench my fists to hide it from myself.
Turning my gaze to the front of the room again I see numbers fill the board where white once was. Quickly I grab the pencil from the floor any begin again to roll it across the desk, as if my sole responsibility is to maintain the same speed and distance in each push.
Ouch I scream again inside and sneak furtive glimpses around me. Can they hear me breaking apart?
evinavery 