It's Tuesday now, the teacher began the lesson, practically spoon feeding the answers to the worksheets in our mouths. I look at the desk for any sign of new writing. Even though it's dumb, I feel this tiny spark of what if.
This what if is ridiculous though, because even if someone writes back what am I to expect? I begin tracing the words that I last wrote, with my finished paper on the corner of my desk.
The teacher walks by giving me a glare, looking at my pencil. I shrug like it wasn't e, but the evidence is right there. I didn't do it today but I certainly wasn't helping by tracing the little letters.
I let out a big sigh checking the clock again.
Anyone there? I write in my small but scrawly handwriting.
Tomorrow will prevail.
