(no subject)
A/N: Post. A day in the life snippet in a slightly different style. In 384 words.
My Fellow Survivor
Even if I hadn’t been there all that long, I knew enough about the school to know that another academic year would not mean a change in practices. We could expect the same muddled schedules, the queues at the offices, and of course, the layers of announcements on the various bulletin boards scattered throughout the building. We’d all long given up on the departments employing the Internet or text messaging to disseminate announcements; ironic for an institution located in the so-called “Text Capital” of the world.
The clock read a quarter to ten, which meant I had just enough time to run up to the second floor and check the papers posted on the board there. Even before I could get past the corner, I could already hear the shouts, the calls and the footsteps of the crowd gathered there. It was hard to tell who was who, especially when everyone was wearing the same dingy white.
“Excuse me, excuse me,” I mumbled as I made my way forward. It was easy for me to get through despite my being on the small side; I made up for it well with the huge red backpack I was facing. I finally got to the front of the crush and stood on tiptoe to get a better glimpse of the announcement tacked to the top of the board.
Just then I felt something press against my backpack, nearly nudging me forward. I wheeled around and caught sight of a familiar silver file case. In an instant I already knew who I was facing.
“Oh, hi,” he said, his face lighting up with a grin. He'd let his hair grow out a little, but not enough to obscure his eyes, which had always been on the dark side. He was a little on the roguish side now, with some visible stubble on his chin.
“Nice to see you again here,” I mumbled, even as I wondered why my knees suddenly felt weak. Of course I’d known he was going to be back for the year, but I had just wanted to see him to believe it.
I had to excuse myself before I could say anything stupid, but I was never more certain of the seemingly interminable ten months that lay ahead of us.