UH-OH!
The guy, the one with the wrinkled forehead next to him, had not quite found his spare pen. The class was eerily quiet and his fumbling was a little loud, pulling more attention. What should I do, return the pen or stay cool? Somtoo contemplated. Simple decisions were getting much more difficult to handle when audience observed critically.
"Yes! Thank God." The boy said, and pulled out an old pen with a cracked tube.
Somtoo was grateful to God as well until he glimpsed at him from the corner of his eyes, and was skeptical about the functionality of that pen. It looked old with a c***k and when the boy attempted a stroke on the back cover of his notebook, he drew blank, except for the indentation created in trace of the stroke. He tried again, and again and – nothing. Somtoo's dis
