It Was Cold

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A half-day.  In a world full of seemingly endless barrage of school work, these days become…”commodities.” (That’s the first word that came into my head.)

It probably doesn’t make sense, but let’s make it make sense!

Yes, in this world, half-days are bought with much fervor.  Every huge crowd one’s eyes can see in a market is expected to surround a half-day-selling merchant.

“Single session!” as a merchant would call it.  “Single session sold here!”

Everyone waves his own possessions up high for trade.

“I’ll give you algebra homework for a ‘periods 1-2-3-11-12′ half-day!” a girl yells.  She then turns aside and whispers to her friend, “I have algebra class periods 5-6.  Ain’t no way I’m going to that class today.”

She’s suddenly shoved by a young man, who offers something that makes eyes widen in disbelief.  “I got me here a bathroom key!”

Instantly, the crowd’s attention goes to the young man.  Everyone attempts to lunge at the young man’s arm, stretched up high to keep the key away from everyone.  “Whoa, whoa,” the lad finally says.  “This ain’t for any o’ youse.  I want me a ‘all-periods half-day.'”

“You’ve come to the right place,” the merchant says, above all the noise the crowd makes.  He easily parts the crowd and grabs the stretched arm of the young man who was sieged by the masses.

“I’ll never get my half-day,” the girl grumbles.

Friend came over for a while.  Then, at one time, I just felt like lying on the floor…

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