Monday, September 12, 2005

A writing Exercise

They had nothing to say to each other. Each opened their lunches and spread out their meal in front of them. In the chatter of the school cafeteria the three ten year olds sat in exile.

Louis carefully unwrapped his cheese and bologna sandwich. He forgot to add the mayonnaise again and he grimaced as he swallowed it down. He was in a rush to get out of the house this morning. He didn’t want to be there when his mother finally awoke from being passed out on the couch all night. Louis knew that if she found him there, she would make him make her coffee, bring the Tylenol and rub her head until the headache went away, usually not until after noon.

Stan popped open his soda can; suds foamed over on to the table, his science book and on to his Spongebob Squarepants t-shirt, too small for his bulging belly. In one long slurp, he sucked up the spilt soda and wiped his mouth with his arm. Stan pushed his entire peanut butter and jelly sandwich into his mouth and chewed it like a cow chews its cud, crumbs falling, jelly stuck to the side of his face.

Emily hung her head down towards her French fries but her eyes were on the popular girls’ table. She envied the way their long blond hair bounced when they laughed and how their glitter nail polish flashed in the fluorescent light. Emily looked at her own bitten fingernails and quickly hid them in her lap, silently willing the bell to ring.

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