5.7 | DREAMS AND MISHAPS
( 5.7 ) s i m o n THE AUTUMNAL SEASON WASN'T PARTICULARLY NICE TO ME. The chilly wind came attacking me early in the morning as I was walking to school, I forgot about my assignments, and I managed to leave my art supplies behind when I had art class. And of course it would be a shame that I leave out the fact that I'm just a stand-in for the one I love. I am now sitting in the art room scribbling some random crap on paper, feeling a little sour. It seems that the sunshine and rainbows that I'm used to aren't happening today. "Hey Simon, can you pass me the white paint?" I hear Jackie speak as she stands near her sketchpad. "Take it yourself. You have legs." I plop my head onto the work table as
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