30 to 0… real quick

As sorrow fills my body, I look down at my quiz. My physics instructor walks away, brimming with malicious joy. A bright “30” fills my sight, and I drop my cranium into my hands. “What did I do, Lord, to justify such an atrocity?” I ask. ” I always thought my instructor was fond of my hard work.” Sighing, I toss my quiz into a maroon plastic bin, and it lands among a pyramid of similar trash.

Having lost all positivity, I stand up, push in my stool, and walk to a door at back of my instructor’s classroom. Ignoring thoughts of principal visits, I push on its wood, and it swings into a busy hallway. Anonymously morphing into a crowd, I fly away from my awaiting physics crucifixion, and toward my car. Turning my ignition, I start my Honda Accord, and soar down Highway 6 until my gas tank hits 0.

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