Friday….
Read about the Sunday scribbling writing prompt. To chronicle. Thinking about it.
Saturday....
Still no idea. Mind is closed up.
Sunday morning....
Still blank. Staring at the screen. Something forms.
One day in the life of a chalk…
After the assembly
I can hear her footsteps.
In anticipation
I await for her to
pick me up.
my friends get picked.
I watch her fingers moving
with fast pace
on the blackboard.
explaining there;
depicting formulae
of sums unknown
to me or them.
but how! Feeling
a slimy hand crushing
me to splinters,
powdered to dust.
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