Mark Allen Hudson

UPS is NOT a Delivery Service

While sitting in class, the fluorescent lights overhead beat down on me making me more uncomfortable than I already am, considering I have to use the restroom very badly. Only minutes are left until class is over, but the ticking of the clock incessantly pounds into my head and drives me berserk while reminding me that he, the clock, is in control of time. Sometimes, I can see his menacing hands shaking their fist at me, mocking me, telling me that at any moment they can turn back time just to further irritate me. “Now next week class, we will begin the chapter on Civil War and discuss Bleeding Kansas...” the teacher explains preten- tiously, while my mind is obviously concentrated more on the civil war presently fighting inside of my bladder.