The classroom echoes with the voices of lost children. None of them captured by his words, his stories, his lessons. It doesn’t seem odd though for they were never interested in what he has to say, only bored.
Slowly a few heads fall to their desks as he commences talking once again. A muffled snore could be heard at the back of the room and scattered groups begin to whisper once again. The teacher drones on.
Five more minutes to go until the students break from their chains and run free to the outer limits of the school where they remain free till 2:05 the next day.
Each student watches intently as the minute hand draws nearer to it’s target. Slowly, slowly. Each second, a second of hell as more useless information is being forced into their aching brains.
Will it end? One thinks to himself as the clock hand appears to slow in it’s last few seconds. Everything stops, silence in his mind, until a high pitched ring fills the ears of every eager student and a tidal wave of relief can be felt through the entire space of the cell-like room as it washes out the teacher’s lessons and opinions. English ends.
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