She is surrounded by everything she doesn't want, the books, the calculator, the tables (z,t,chi,f....). Even the otherwise happiness radiating sunshine yellow pencil is sending out the wrong alarms. There is an admit card amidst the stuff. 16 subjects it states. She lets out a small sigh. 2 years since she sat for an university exam, absolute what the fuck moment. Her tummy growls, chicken biryani, she thinks. She glances at the phone, hoping it would buzz with a call from her dinner companion. Those few moments where she could possibly forget the looming doom. She has studied...probably enough..but where is the confidence she seeks?
She'd like to be teleported to her room at home, flop next to her window on the 7th floor and watch the night sky. Signs of losing her mind, you think? You think so? You're probably right.
Miss Rascal.
She'd like to be teleported to her room at home, flop next to her window on the 7th floor and watch the night sky. Signs of losing her mind, you think? You think so? You're probably right.
Miss Rascal.
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