Gauche

May 2008 Creative Writing

Crap! Look who’s walking this way.

 

Everyone at the table

SHIFTED in their seats.

Stiff necks and scrambling hands

frantically searching for something,

anything to keep him

away.

 

If I can just open my Math book,

his grimy eyes could slide over me

and onto someone else instead.

 

With the same thought in each mind

it might have appeared that the

flat, sticky toll of the bell had already rung

and everyone was just off to class.

But that would have been too convenient.

 

The voice of the unfortunate victim

was coated with a curious

pseudo-friendly slime.

But this was the sweetest of chocolate syrup

when compared to the awkward goop that

flowed so profusely

from this poor excuse for a high schooler.