Mr. Forevergingerman

Stares blankly at the page

It’s covered in words

Words

Just rolling and spinning on and off the page

Words everywhere

Everything is words

And nothing is words

And around him nothing happens

The only sound to be heard is the incessant tapping of Mr. Forevergingerman’s keys

And the air conditioning unit

Blowing out warm air

And he just stares at the page

And then a new sound appears

It’s footsteps

And he looks up

And a shadow passes through the blinds

Then nothing

And the sound recedes

And he looks back at the page and sighs

He’s already bled all over it with his red ink pen

But it doesn’t matter, really

It won’t change the grade

And he’s not even actually ginger

But it doesn’t matter, really

Mr. Forevergingerman