Our Little Cherry Blossoms

nine. salt

ＤＥＣＥＭＢＥＲ (( ＪＯＳＥＰＨ ))

Joseph would timidly contemplate his surroundings, objects and people included, and carefully remove himself from the fray like a thread yanked out of the tattered quilt, ineluctably drifting towards cold marble tiles. During lunch break, he scurried around his classmate's eyes and vanished into the shadows to eat. No one searched for him nor realised his absence. Not one single thought of Joseph scampered across their self-consumed minds. His friends had other friends, and he wearily imagined their illuminant grins swathed upon their lips while buoyant bouts of laughter ruptured through their teeth. The sound of his fork against his plastic lunchbox often cracked the desolate ceiling which hovered above him, seeming to descend lower and lower as the minutes trotted by. He would intentionally lock the door to his stall, freezing into a rigid sculpture each time the bathroom entrance creaked open, inevitably followed by lazy footsteps and perhaps a cough or two, albeit it was primarily hollow laughter that echoed off the walls like gongs. The sound would reverberate in his mind long after they left. Joseph frequently skipped school days, simply because he dreaded the group projects and those bleak lunch breaks. Though he would never miss the days when he had physical education, when Lark was there.

Joseph thought about his farewell to Lark before December break as salty beads dribbled from his eyes onto the entrance exam for his new school. Those days don't exist anymore.