Mr.Boraga looked down at his class and, not for the first time, they reminded him of grasshoppers, what he remembered of grasshoppers. They wiggled on the bench, giggling and hissing, unable to contain their excitement.
“Ok kids, one last time before I open the blast doors. What are the rules?”
There was a jumble of answers, all different, all muffled by the masks. Mr.Boraga put up his hands. “One at a time, one at a time. Michael, tell me a rule.”
Michael stood up. “If you hear your box alarm, it’s time to run from harm.”
Mr.Boraga nodded. “Very good, you’ve all got your boxes, if you hear anything from them, get back in here, as quick as you can. Tom, what’s another?”
Tom scratched the back of his head, near his mask strap. “Birds are bad, don’t make them mad.” He punctuated his rule with a little jump.
“Right. If you see a bird; leave it alone! Call me over. And the most important rule Claire?”
Claire got to her feet and dramatically turned to face the other kids. She pointed a warning finger.
“No bleeding! It’s bad to bleed, ‘cuz blood goes bad!”
“That it does,” said Mr.Boraga, his mind filled with red memories, “That it does…”
_______________________________________
Couldn't find the credit for this picture. If you know what it is, drop me a line. So creepy, I'd love to give props to where it came from.
No comments:
Post a Comment