The flap of my bag clicks against the floor tiles with the sharp patter of pins and buttons.
“Attention students! The nerd has arrived.”
My life has become a cycle of dreams, pushing and prodding beneath the walls of my skull, trying to break free from their prison to the open air they feel they deserve. Considering this, my skull has developed quite a few cracks. In my professor’s mid-sentence one of them escapes, although not wholly of my own creation.
“It’s like this anime I was watching last night. The subtitles were so poorly translated I couldn’t tell what the hell was going on.”
The nerd has spoken.
I’ve learned through such breakouts the tastes of silence. The powdered sugar sweet of awe, the tart and musty yuck of awkwardness. This moment is musty, dark and musty. I need to keep my mouth shut.