On the Ceiling
My classmates are on the ceiling again. I don’t know how they get their desks all the way up there. The teacher asks someone to read the next page in the textbook, one of them raises their hand, and when I look around, they’re gone. They read the page so effortlessly from the ceiling, even with all of that blood rushing to their head. I don’t get it. Do they even know they’re up there? I received quite a boost in my allowance recently, ever since mom published that one article in that one journal last year. I tried to “spend it wisely” as they say. Twenty thousand dollars for one year, just to come to this school. A school where my classmates sit on the ceiling. Maybe coming here was the wrong choice.