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Weekly Contest #307
The pencil shook as he coloured in the bubbles; twenty-three A, twenty-four C, twenty-five A— no. Not A. Fluorescent lights shone overhead, bathing the room in a dull orange glow. Fans whirred softly alongside them. It was B. He dropped the pencil and wiped his hands on his pants. He needed to pull himself together. Around him, rows of desks were filled with students, each one bent over their own exam. They sat in various states of disarray, with hair tangled in knots, teeth stained yellow from coffee, and dark circles under their eyes. ...
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