Morning all. Air quality has been poor for three days here and I am beginning to wonder if i should just start running around in goggles so my eyes will stop itching for a little while. Other than that, things aren’t bad. It’s just the eye itchiness that gets me. But I will not scratch my eyes. So let’s find something better to do with my hands. I know, writing prompt. I know, you are totally surprised. Still let’s get moving on the prompt and start the day. Ready? Excellent.
I don’t know what the exam is, but I want it to be more dire than a regular school exam or even the SAT/ACTs. If I work on it, I’ll have to come up with something.
Tuesday, May 25th: He chewed on his lip anxiously.
He chewed on his lip anxiously. His knee bounced up and down and his fingers twitched. This exam was everything. If he didn’t pass…
He didn’t like to think about what would happen if he didn’t pass. Thinking on it wouldn’t help him.
The doors opened and he, like all the others waiting, looked up, their eyes laser focused on the man standing there. He was short, balding and slightly paunchy around the middle. His shoulders were slightly stooped as though he was more accustomed to carrying a heavy weight on his back than standing upright. He wore a baggy brown cardigan and Michael could see the edge of a handkerchief poking out. It wasn’t a tissue paper one, but a real honest handkerchief. It had a scalloped edge and initials embroidered on it. He could only make out part of what he thought was the letter E. Somehow the sight of the handkerchief calmed him somewhat. He went still, his knee stopped bouncing and his hands grew steady. He pulled his teeth from his lip.
“You will form an orderly line,” the man in the doorway pointed to a spot slightly to the left of himself. “There and present your identification.”
As they all shuffled forward simultaneously, each trying to reach the very spot just pointed out to them at once, the man ducked back into the room, returning momentarily with a clipboard. He began checking them off and sending them in to find a seat. Michael was halfway through the group and it was with relief that he slid into the plastic chair. For a wild moment as he stood in line he thought there wouldn’t be enough seats. He would not be allowed in and forced to wait for a second round of testing.
But that didn’t seem to be the case. Everyone from the line filed in and there were still two seats remaining.
The man closed the doors. The heavy clang a they met echoed through the oddly quiet room. Michael had never been in a room occupied by so many people being this quiet before.
‘But then it isn’t like we know each other,’ he thought as the proctor began to pass out the exams. Each exam came with three pre sharpened pencils so there was no need to even reach into a bag, should anyone have brought one. He looked around and saw a few people had. They were told that should they need a new pencil or their pencils sharpened they were to raise their hands and a new pencil would be brought to them while the old ones were sharpened.
During the exam they weren’t to leave their seats. They weren’t to reach for bags or pockets and cheating of any sort would not be tolerated. The stern look on his face promised immediate expulsion from the exam. Michael nodded at the instructions and when the word was given. He flipped the pages over and picked up his pencil.
Oddly now that it was time to complete the exam, he felt steady and in control. All of his earlier worry faded. There was no room for fear. There was only time to empty his head onto the page and see if his mind measured up. His pencil scratched along the surface of the page leaving numbers and words in it’s wake. The scent of the pencil was strong in the air as he inhaled.
Ten til Midnight 