Ayu's Short Stories

Observation

                Walking into the classroom, I took the first seat I found. It was closer to the teacher than what I usually prefer, but arriving halfway through the lecture, there was no time to stand and scan for the perfect seat in a game of eeny meeny. I placed my books in the shelf under the desk, forgetting to check for hidden pieces of gum. Thankfully, nonetheless, the books slid nicely without sticking onto anything, which I considered a victory. However, as I shoved my things inside, something slipped out. Tiny pieces of paper fell, slowly swaying from side to side like an autumn leaf swirling along the final blows of summer’s soft breeze. They were ripped fragments of lined paper – unquestionably, I then saw, from the sheet that hung from the desk, trapped by one of my books. I held it up, and almost felt bad for the mutilation it suffered. The paper was wrinkled all over, especially in the bottom corners, where one would usually hold it. It formed hundreds of transparent lines, mapping the war through which it had lived. The left side had been mercilessly dismembered, looking miserable for its uneven haircut – the source of the fallen limbs. What was left of the paper was scribbled in blue ink. The letters ran in swift navy strokes that trampled over one another in a race towards the end of the page. Deciphering such a handwriting would be a victory for any archaeologist. Interested as I was on what the teacher had to say, I accepted the challenge. Squinting, I tilted my head and the page, enjoying a guessing game with myself until the words made sense. It began,

Good morning,

I will be presenting Erik Erikson and his Theory of Psychosocial Development…

I stopped there, disappointed after spending so much time deciphering someone’s presentation. What’s more, the person even had to write down “Good morning”, as if omitting it would result in an automatic fail. However, the writing of unnecessarily simple details, the crimpled edges, the ripped length, and its fallen fragments… It all adds up. I’m surprised there wasn’t a chewed-up pencil left behind as well.