Prue and Paul #2

Prue and Paul #1

Paul sat very still. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt as taken by surprise. And his face stung. His eyes focussed on Prue’s as she sat, nursing her smarting hand. The whole room felt as though it hummed quietly in suspense, waiting motionlessly: this was a moment that was taking on a larger significance. Neither Paul nor Prue were aware that whatever happened next would be looked back on as a defining point, but they both knew that the air crackled with expectancy.


Prue and Paul #1

Prue leant across the table and slapped him. It had been coming for a long time, but Paul’s expression, particularly his dropped-open mouth, displayed the shock Prue had thought he might feel. Paul had never been good at sensing others’ moods, or anticipating actions motivated by intense feeling – in fact, Paul rarely ever registered that there were feelings, even his own, to be felt. Prue winced, even while holding her face as tight as she could, knowing that she may have burnt her bridges; Paul was not a man to accept humiliation easily.

A Losing Battle

Rabble runs riot.

The fuming teacher angrily flings open the door and stands disbelievingly in front of his unruly class. The class seems not to take notice, but goes on screaming foolishly.

The teacher strides purposefully to the middle of the room. He opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it again, seeing he can’t get a word in. He ducks, quickly and instinctively, as a paper aeroplane just misses his head.

He stares helplessly around the room as they fight, throw things, and run crazily. He takes a breath and screams maniacally. Total silence reigns.

A muffled giggle escapes from the back row.