Products of Society

 
 
      The clock striked 10. The slow ticks rang loudly in her head. The girl looked up , her chocolate brown eyes, sheltered beneath long black lashed stared intently at the clock, a bead of sweat trickled down her arm, evidence that her sweat drenched shirt could hold no more. Her head slid back down into the dark space her arms provided.They blocked out just enough sun to make her feel at home, comfortable. Her hot breath slammed against the walls of her arms and spread out all around. The heat became unbearable and soon enough she sat up , took a minute to allow her eyes to adjust , she looked around her, surrounded by programmed robots she thought. Products of society. Those who saw no path but that which was set out before them, and led to believe that they controlled what happened in life with ink encased in a small plastic mold.  She tilted her head to the side and it rested on her shoulder. She eyed the man who sat before her, a little man, beneath her, a simple commoner clad in red, a loose ratty old polo that didn't conceal his over sized stomach and seemed to slide of his shoulder, the collar didn't look like a collar at all. Just a piece of cloth stitched to serve some random purpose, not quite sure what that was but a shirt cannot go without one, it wouldn't look right. He glanced around the room over his crooked and cracked glasses which seemed to yearn to join the shirt in escaping this man's foul body. He shuffled and crossed his legs at the ankles , just like they teach you, his shoes were fairly new and well polished , which puzzled the girl and she took to observing these shoes which piqued her interest.  When she raised her eyes, there he sat looking back at her, seemingly staring into her soul, and suddenly she became aware once more of the ticking of the clock that hung on the wall, just above the little man's head, and so did he. He turned in his chair , which made a godawful squeak that woke up the whole room. He looked at the clock and promptly announced
" You have 15 minutes left."
One girl raised her hand.
"Can we leave ?".    
     He nodded in reply and she pushed back her chair and walked toward the front. The girl watched  as she slapped the papers on the desk, not bothering to staple them and left the room, her eyes followed her until she was out of sight. Then she looked at her own booklet, a few words scribbled here and there, a half-assed essay that needed structure, and then she looked up at the clock , pushed her chair back, grabbed the booklet and placed it on the desk , the little man looked up at her , his eyebrows raised.  She smiled uneasily and turned to go,and  as she grabbed her bag, more desks started screeching and the rumble to chairs grew louder, as well as mumbles and snickers as booklets and papers were placed on the desk, and the room came alive.
Because of course no one wants to leave the exam room first.

TwistedMb