But In Truth, I'm Lost For Words

Ahh, Critical Thinking.

What a pile of shite.

We piled into the main hall, clasping pens and water bottles, ready for the most enjoyable experience that life could ever throw our way.

We sat down in our alloted places, with the exception of Kris, who decided to walk in the wrong direction, and refuse to come back for a reasonably long time.

Papers were handed out, the clock was looked at by an array of teachers, and at last, we were allowed to open the Booklet of Wonders, and take part in our favourite subject.

I was finished within an hour, and so I lolled back in the chair, and made it bounce.

Bounce bounce bounce.

I really do like those chairs. I think they are the best bit of having exams. They are so comfy, and you can just bounce on them for hours. Which I do. Plus they are green. And they match the stage curtain. They do, however, clash terribly with the gold curtains Miss. Ross seems to have recently chucked at the windows. But no matter. Although my eyes and sense of taste may have a heartattack, I am still able to concentrate well on my exams, and achieve to my full potential.

I then asked for more paper, from Dr. Witch (also known as Harris), and proceeded to write a detailed letter to Steve, entailing how bored I was, and telling her that I have no idea what moral dilemmas or principles mean in the context of GM crops. I do not care about GM crops, and they do not care about me.

So I sat for another fifty years, didn't fill in the gaps I left in the question paper, and thought about mesh spiders.

As you do.