The only adventure of AL COLEGIO

It was the last day of school for that year. The students rushed for the door, but were met by the equally eager to leave teacher. He was fighting his way through with a bag of pretzels, stabbing a few with said unopened bag. They all escaped, but of course this is a vague word, as they didn’t all escape in the same way. Some escaped existence, but that happened after the room.

I knew this because after the musk of the entrails on the floor, I was able to hear and smell the bowel movements of death coming from the hall. This made me giggle a little inside, kind of like when a waiter at a fancy restaurant will give you one more roll than you need. Seriously what’s up with that? Do they think some Mr. Fatman somewhere will fight over it like some Mortal Klondike fight?
In any case, everyone was existing on the other side of one of the six walls. I had the same comforting feeling I knew on visits to my mom’s mom. Not because she was nice or that we cared, on the contrary she was an anus. But something about her backyard was peaceful. Quiet --save the birds -- and full of trees. At that point I wondered where the trees went to cut down their people to burn to keep warm.

The blood and bodies had soaked into the floor to be digested by the school, since it requires the suffering of others to exist, that and tacos. By this point, ten minutes had passed like a glass kidney stone, and I was becoming concerned that I wasn’t going to move. A book was on the desk. I became frightened of its rectangular prismatic ways. It began to spin and make cheep ambulance noises like a child may make.

“WEE-OOO-WEE-OOO--!”

I smiled. The book began to levitate while continuing to spin. I knew, I would move to escape as well. As I looked back before taking my leave, and I knew, it was okay.

> Autizma excert 2