24 Minutes

24 minutes. I felt my head hit the desk, finally allowing this saturnine feeling to get the best of me. One eye briefly skimmed the worksheet my teacher had just handed out, while the other kept an intent watch on the clock. The numbers and formulas swirled on the page, painting shapes and pictures of exotic places and better times. But it was all a ruse, created by a wandering eye and a mind desperate to get out of this class. 

        It's not just the inescapable ennui, but the horrible knowledge that even if you pay attention, you still won't understand. I watch people all around me quickly finishing the problems, the problems that tease my mind and lie slightly out of reach. Scott gets up to hand in his paper; his condescending smile more of a hector than any words could be. 16 minutes. He sits back down with a deriding laugh, and I silently wish he could just disappear. I try to keep my invidious feelings off of my face, but I know I did a poor job of it. I manage to focus both eyes on the worksheet, and force myself to concentrate. The argot of the physics department never fails to confuse me, and I wonder if they can even understand themselves. 

       My eyes wander towards the window, getting lost in the blowing leaves and soft grass. 7 minutes. I wish I could just run outside, through the breezeway, all the way home. I wish I had some sort of capriciousness that would just take over, allowing me to do exactly what I please without worrying about the consequences. But I don't, and I won't, so I better stop dreaming. Finally. The bell.