The Shortest Semestral Break

So my friends in school had asked me, “What is a semestral break?”

A sudden coldness swept over me. I looked down and found a shard of ice, like a dagger, had pierced my chest.  My heart sustained a penetrating wound to the right ventricle.  I said I was fine but I knew I couldn’t forever conceal the skipping beats, the slowing rhythm, the increasing discomfort.  The evolution of symptoms has been rather slow relatively. Still, their constellation constitutes an emergency.  My hours are indeed numbered.  And I had done nothing but sleep, fooled into thinking that all those sleepless nights can be recovered.

Every now and then, there’s an unconventional idea that I struggle to silence. On most days I bury it under the folds of my brain, later to exhume and publicize by mouth or by hand. But tonight—just this night—I feel a sudden surge of courage to post a picture of this dreaded thing.

Here comes the sun, a most beautiful one
Off the sheets, into the road, on the run
If you think life’s given you enough shock
Tic toc, eight-oh-one, reads the bundy clock

In a smooth sweep of its hands, the short recess is ended.  The school uniform once again becomes a steady sight, a staple experience on the skin.